A Fortunate Circumstance
by C-Alrich
Summary: What if, amidst all the terrible, awful, unfortunate events that circled the Baudelaire's lives... there was, for a time, an unnoticed and unrecognized ounce of good? What if something good had been following them, trailing them, trying to catch up to them all this time? What about when they finally do? How will that change the children's lives? How will it change hers?
1. Prologue: A Minor Detail

Disclaimer: "I do not own 'A Series of Unfortunate Events'. Not the books, not the movie, not the TV series... none of it. I own Dusty, and any original content I make her do or say or add to this story. That is all."

* * *

A Minor Detail

As Lemony Snickett looked around at all of his notes, maps, charts and diagrams… he couldn't understand how he'd missed it so very long ago. Or… not so very long ago. The story of the Baudelaire children was still being recorded. And up until now, he had seen it all entirely, and completely, as a Series of Unfortunate Events. For that's what they all had been.

First getting taken to Count Olaf in the first place. Then Monty and Josephine… both dead. Then the lumber mill with all the hypnotized people. Wherever the Baudelaire's went, Olaf somehow always managed to find them. And everywhere they went, a series of unfortunate events always seemed to follow.

But… he had missed it. And he had missed a great many other things because of it too. Only now, was he realizing what all of those other things were. And only now was he realizing… well, contemplating really. But, he is quite certain that he knows what the detail is that he missed.

And the thought of her has a smile finally appearing on his usually grim face.

Standing up straight and facing the documentary camera that records his story of events surrounding the Baudelaire's, he says, "To the listeners of this documentation of a Series of Unfortunate Events… I am sorry to say that I may have led you astray. Not to say the events you've witnessed thus far weren't all tragic, terrible, often horrifying and… well, unfortunate. But, I do believe I've left out a minor detail."

Walking towards the window he was planning to exit out of, he says, "The term 'minor detail' usually refers to a small thing that was missed. It is a detail that can expand upon the major details already given… but if missed, is usually of little consequence. However, there is on occasion a way of using the term sarcastically. For instance, when a person has missed a detail that should've been obvious, because it plays a big part… but it was missed because it was hidden in the background or in the shadows… some people would say 'oh, if you'd just noticed that one… tiny… minor detail'."

Hopping off the fire escape ramp that he'd deftly climbed down, he heads for a taxi that is waiting on the curb for him. Pausing at the door, holding it open so he can step in when ready, he turns back to the camera. "For those who have continued watching so far, even though I continuously implored you to look away, I know welcome you to continue watching. For those who stopped watching… I apologize for my misinformation. Certainly, the events thus far, have been quite unfortunate. But for those of you who have held on, clinging to some small glimmer of hope that something good might finally happen to the Baudelaire orphans… your patience has not been in vain. For something good is going to happen to them."

He slips into the passenger seat of the taxi, and as he shuts the door behind him, he adds, "In fact, I'd dare say that something fortunate has already happened to them. It's just that they, like me, have managed to miss this minor… and yet not so minor… detail, until now."

Glancing over at the driver, his brother's girlfriend, Lemony says, "I'm ready when you are, darling."

Olivia Caliban glances over at him, very much not dead yet, and certainly not eaten by lions. Smiling, she cranks the engine, and begins heading them down the road. Then she asks worriedly, "What about your brother?"

Lemony just shakes his head, "Still in rough shape. Larry is looking after him. Should anything change or he need to be transferred, he'll take care of it."

Nodding, Olivia asks, "And where are we going?"

He stares out the windshield for a moment in silence. Then he turns to her and says, "We're going to continue trying to save the Baudelaire children. And we're going to see if 'she' needs our help."

"And the children? They've never seen her before? They won't know who she is?"

"No one aside from those of us already in the organization will know who she is."

"But why? Why don't they know who she is, and that she's trying to help them?"

Lemony puts a gentle hand on Olivia's shoulder, trying to calm her worries for a moment. Then he turns back to the window, and shocks her by answering honestly, "Because all but a select few now believe she's dead."

* * *

Author's Note: Hey Guys! I just wanted to give a heads up to anyone who's read any of my other content before. First being, this will definitely not be as 'thorough' or in depth version of a story as my others. Those you can usually see how it went right along with the movie or tv series. I just plug my character in, and show how that affects certain aspects of the amazing story that was already there to begin with. This will be more snippets. Meaning much shorter chapters, and not so much a strict following of the story as... going along behind it and plugging my character into certain places as I see fit. At least, I think that's how I'd describe what I'm doing here. Also, it should be known that this story is based heavily on the TV series. I did, when I was younger, read some of the first few books, but for this story, I am going off of the TV series that Netflix put out. Just FYI.

I'm a romantic, and a fan of HEA. I'm sure you all know that by now. So, eventually, expect these things. Also, this story is not yet complete. Usually, the story is finished before I post any of the chapters. But this one, I'm going to more be posting as I go along. So this will not be a rapidly posted and finished story that you can expect to see all the chapters up and completed within a week or so. It will take time. Just wanted to throw that out there.

Anyways, I do hope you enjoy what I think is a cute little idea in my head. At the very least, if you take the time to read it, I hope it makes you smile.


	2. The Aftermath

Disclaimer: "I do not own 'A Series of Unfortunate Events'. Not the books, not the movie, not the TV series... none of it. I own Dusty, and any original content I make her do or say or add to this story. That is all."

* * *

Chapter 1: The Aftermath

Fire. The thing itself has many uses and purposes, in actuality. A fire is used to create heat, and therefore provide warmth to those around it. A fire is used to cook food, therefore killing deadly bacteria that might otherwise remain in the otherwise edible meat and vegetables. If there is fire in your eyes, it means you have passion and desire, unlike a great many others that happen to be around you.

Fire was also, when provided with too much oxygen, or left unattended and in an open space, as dangerous a thing to have to encounter. The heat that once provided comforting warmth now is too much for a person to stand. And in the most tragic of cases… it was too much for them to survive either.

As Dustine Baudelaire makes her way through the ruins of what had once been her older sister's property, she can't help but wonder at which one of their former colleagues had done this. There were those that were obviously still on the side of good. Those that would forever be volunteers, until their last and dying day. And then there were others, who should never have been allowed to join in the first place. Those who had a wicked gleam in their eye, rather than a gleam of pure and innocent curiosity.

Then there were those in the middle. Those whose curiosity had started innocent enough, but with the right push, could become a dangerous obsession with the fires of this world. Both literal and figurative.

In all honesty, these are the ones that Dusty is trying to determine between. The Man with Beard but no Hair, and the Woman with Hair but no Beard… they were as wicked as they came. But they would consider Beatrice and Bertrand as chump change, compared to how much wealth they truly wanted in the world. So it wasn't them that caused this.

Plus, those two might be evil, but they had never been to Beatrice's home. They didn't know all of the secret passages in and out of the house. They wouldn't have known how to block them all off, so there was no chance of escape.

The fact that there were a significantly smaller number of people that did have this information, shrinks Dusty's pool of suspects considerably. Not to mention the ones she knows are incapable of such treachery. That rules them out as well. Which, in the end, only left…

She glares at a piece of ash on the ground while muttering, "Olaf."

The man may have had his reasons for holding a grudge against Beatrice… but he'd been in the middle of the schism for quite some time before that. She recalls the night he'd 'accidentally' burnt a hole into one of the curtains at the opera. She remembers the smirk that had been on his face… before he'd realized she was watching him.

Of course, that night she'd been distracted after that. Both by Lemony clapping enthusiastically for her sister's beautiful finish… and by the hand that had gently tapped her shoulder, fingers gliding softly up the side of her neck, before the vanishing. And though no one else in the room had known why she'd suddenly stood up to leave that night… she didn't care in the slightest. She had much more important places to be.

But that had been a long time ago. Now Olaf was officially on the Fire-Starting side of the schism. And he'd killed Beatrice and Bertrand. He was the enemy, and a far more sinister one than anybody had anticipated he would become.

And before this all was over… he would pay dearly for what he'd done.

First things first though, Dusty needed to figure out where he was, who was helping him, and how to get the children out of his clutches safely. For if he was after the Baudelaire fortune, then he had to have the children in order to get it.

Dusty was still going over the house, searching for any other clues she could find in the ruble that was left behind. The local authorities had done a good job, that was not to be denied. But Dusty was a different breed of thorough… and there were details here that she was sure they'd missed. Like the passages that, if one cared to look hard enough, were easy enough to find. Like a particularly dark piece of wood, compared to the others that were more charred and gray.

She was still searching when she heard a car pull up, and a figure step out and begin approaching the house. Hiding behind one of the few columns that remained standing of the structure, Dusty pulls out one of her many weapons and waits patiently for whomever it might be. If it was Olaf, trying to ensure that his goal had actually been successfully accomplished, then he would die here and now for his crimes. If it was an accomplice, or someone who looked like a henchman, she would see to it that they revealed everything they knew before she would allow them to leave.

But as the approaching steps reached her, and as Dusty spun around with her blade extended, she found herself holding the curved blade against the throat of Jacqueline. Someone who would forever be on the Fire-Fighting side of the schism. Someone who had been like a second sister to her, until about twenty years ago.

Twenty years ago… when she'd made a decision that changed her life forever. Along with everyone else around her.

Jacqueline, for her part, forgot to breathe for a moment as she stares at the dark figure before her. The woman was dressed from head to toe in black. Boots, pants, shirt, jacket, gloves… all of it black. Even the hood she wore wrapped around her head, which also came up to hide the lower half of her face, was black. The only part of this woman that Jacqueline could actually see… was the pair of deep green eyes that were staring back at her.

For a moment, neither moved. Then Dusty slowly lowers her blade from Jacqueline's throat. And it would've ended there. Dusty wasn't supposed to be seen by the people that used to know her in the past. She was supposed to be a ghost. A shadow. A figure that appeared when needed, and then vanished before you ever realized she was the one that had been there.

But Jacqueline wasn't simply going to let this strange woman walk out of the house without a fight. What if she was in cahoots with Count Olaf? What if Beatrice wasn't really dead, and this woman was being sent to go and finish the job? Jacqueline couldn't let that happen, if it were true.

As she lashed out to grab the woman by the wrist though, the dark figure spun around and twisted out of the grip with ease. And no matter what Jacqueline did, she couldn't get a grip on her. And Jacqueline wasn't an expert, per say… she knows that. But she'd been trained for many years in how to fight and capture the enemy.

And this woman was making it look like all she knew was child's play. She slipped, she dodged, and batted Jacqueline's hands away. She twisted, turned, even flipped straight over Jacqueline's backside, never allowing herself to be put in a position of almost captured.

The fight lasted that way for a good fifteen minutes. That's how long it took for Jacqueline to pick up on what should've been considered a rather crucial detail. Though this woman was better than her, and certainly had no intention of being captured or interrogated about what had happened here… she wasn't fighting back. Evading, blocking, and even occasionally shaking her head as though in amusement with something Jacqueline was trying. But she never once threw her own punch into the mix.

When she finally stops, she stares at the woman harder for a moment. Again, there was nothing to see. Nothing except the set of green eyes that were sharp as a hawk's. Green eyes that had a gleam within them that looked similar to other members of the true VFD.

And over the right eye… a scar. There was a thin line down the middle of her eyebrow, where a blade had been drawn and the hair refused to ever grow back. And beneath her eye, starting at the top of her cheek and disappearing beneath the black fabric covering her face, the scar continued.

Jacqueline had to blink, and then consider the implications of what exactly she was thinking at this moment. Because it should've been impossible. She was dead. They'd all attended the funeral. Even Lemony, who would forever be in hiding, had made a rare appearance back into their lives, to attend Dusty Baudelaire's funeral.

But that scar… there weren't many people in the world with a scar like that. Nor were there many with the same deep green eyes.

Leaning closer, her hands now shaking rather than remaining in fists, Jacqueline asks, "D… Dusty?"

The woman blinks in surprise, and for a moment just stares at Jacqueline. Then she can't help it. Jacqueline can see her cheeks rise up a little in what must've been a small grin appearing on her face.

Then she pulls the cloth away from her face, unwrapping it from around her head as well. And as Jacqueline gasps and covers her mouth with both hands, Dusty admits wryly, "You were the one I knew I needed to keep away from. You and… well, _him._ But you were always harder to avoid. I always knew I needed too though."

Looking up to meet Jacqueline's stunned gaze, Dusty adds, "Always knew you'd be the one to look at me and figure it out." Then she smiles gently, "How've you been, Jackie?"

Jackie was the nickname that Dusty had always used for Jacqueline. Most others called her by her full name… but Dusty had always had a preference for nicknames. Somehow, in her opinion, calling someone by their nickname made it apparent that you were true friends. Which is why, though everyone knew her full name was Dustine, everyone had always called her Dusty.

Lowering her hands from her mouth, Jackie says, "How have I… How have I been?! Dusty! You… you're supposed to be dead!"

Dusty nods, "For all intents and purposes, I am dead." Then she gives Jackie a hard stare, "And it needs to stay that way."

"What on earth for?! You… we've all missed you dearly. Beatrice, God rest her soul… she was…"

But Dusty shakes her head, "She is an amazing actress, we all know that. She's particularly good at playing the tragedies. You all thought she was devastated. And if I had actually died, she would've been. But… she knew. She was the only one that knew."

"Why?"

"Because that is the way it had to be. I was granted permission to keep one person in the loop. One person who could know that I wasn't gone… I was just moving into a different field of work. And for particular reasons… it needed to be Beatrice."

Jackie stares at her long and hard for a moment. Then she says, "I… I can't believe you're alive. After all this time… I… I just can't believe it."

Dusty smiles gently as a beaming smile erupts on Jackie's face. Then she launches herself into Dusty's arms. The slightly shorter woman catches her old friend with ease, holding her tight in spite of the fact that this was not supposed to be happening.

But she was the best her new organization had. She was one of the only ones still left who could always get the job done. Just let them try to fire her at this point. There weren't enough of them to actually make it stick anymore anyway.

Jackie notes the way Dusty holds her tightly, and how much firmer her body seemed to be. Dusty had always been the fighter amongst them. She was always the one who wasn't afraid to get dirty, if her opponent was willing to do the same. And now… now Dusty looked like a woman who was built for dealing with the dirtier, grittier, and darker parts of the world.

Dusty's appearance, back when they'd known her, was a lot like Beatrice's. Their facial structures and tones of skin were much the same. Beatrice had simply been the taller of the two, and Dusty's hair was black, where Beatrice's had been brown.

Now… Now Dusty's once long black hair was short, parted so more hair was pulled towards the right than the left. It spiked up a little on her head, though some of her bangs fell across her forehead in what looked like an attempt to cover some of the scar at her eyebrow. And all of tips of her hair were dyed a deep red color. The scar, now that her face wasn't covered, could be seen to stretch just a bit further past the top of her cheek bone. Then, just beneath her jaw, it started again, and was dragged down and into the right side of her neck.

Jackie supposes that had been the beginning of Dusty's new look to begin with. She'd tried to stay with the VFD after the attack. After she'd been kidnapped by the other side of the schism, and tortured for information. But a volunteer fire department member couldn't exactly save people, when they took one look at you and screamed.

Dusty had then dedicated herself to putting out the figurative fires… but that had never been her strongest suit. She was a physical individual, not meant to sit still for any great length of time. Not unless it was in the interest of reading a very good book.

And then, at a time when VFD was in the most danger of being destroyed altogether… Dusty had died. Or… they'd thought she had, anyway.

Leaning back to look at her old friend, Jackie asks, "What happened? Why did you fake your death? What sort of work are you doing now? How did you get here before me? What…"

Dusty holds up a hand and says, "Easy Jackie. I… can't answer all of those for you."

"Why not?"

"Because… the work I do now is from the shadows. The organization I work for, doesn't even have a name. We work in the dark corners of the world, operating in those shadows, because we know that's where our true enemies already are."

Jackie cups her face in her hands and says, "We miss you. All of us. Especially…"

Dusty jerks her head to the side, not wanting to hear about that right now. She was certain that by now, he's moved on from her. It's been twenty years. Plus, she never intended to reenter the world of the living. Not while there were still so many cruel people that needed to be dealt with on the bad side of the schism. Therefore, she never expected him to remain attached to her memory for very long. He was a good man, a good person, and he deserved to be happy.

Didn't mean she wanted to talk about how his life must be now. Who he'd met, how happy he was, or if he had a family? These were things she didn't want to know right now. Maybe she'd never want to know.

In any case, she sighs and says, "You can't tell anyone you saw me."

"Dusty…"

"I mean it, Jackie. No one. Not a soul. I am dead. I am a ghost. And that is the edge I need in order to save my sister's children."

Jackie stares at her for a moment, and then finally concedes, "I won't tell anyone. For now."

Dusty would have to work on the 'for now' bit later. At this moment, she'd take what agreement she could get from her old friend. Time was of the essence. She already knew the chase to get back the Baudelaire children was going to be a long one. Her resources had diminished in the past few years. She really only had one person working in intelligence now that actually knew what he was doing.

But boy, was he good at what he did. So the journey would be long… but she would get it done. She would save Violet, Klaus, and Sunny.

And Count Olaf would pay for the pain he'd caused everyone. Including her beloved sister.

Nodding that she accepts Jackie's tentative agreement of secrecy, Dusty reaches into a pocket and pulls out a card. Handing it over, she says, "Any information you find on the kids, or Olaf. Anything at all that might be of the slightest importance. Call me, and give me an update."

Jackie nods, but says, "If I call and I'm with any of the others, they're going to want to know who I'm speaking to. What do I tell them, if I can't tell them I'm talking to Beatrice's little sister? Who do I say I'm talking to that they won't question?"

Dusty starts walking out of what's left of the building, rewrapping her head and face so only her eyes are visible again. She pauses at the bottom step, glancing back at Jackie who had returned to surveying the property. Then she says, "Tell them you've been granted privileged access to The Phantom Pixie's phone number. That ought to interest them for a while."

Jackie gasps at the name, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head as she spins around to look at Dusty again. But then she blinks… because Dusty… Phantom Pixie… she's already gone.

Vanished. Just as The Phantom Pixie… or Pixie for short… was known to do. She was a figure in the secret organization's community that was almost considered a myth. Except for the drastic impact she'd had in taking down at least part of the anti-VFD portion of the organization. But none of them had ever actually seen who the person was that was fighting for them in secret. That was what Pixie did. She appeared out of thin air, and then vanished without a trace.

But as Jackie looks back to the card in her hand, the phone number written cleanly across it in Dusty's handwriting, Jackie can't help but smile. "No. Not without a trace. Not this time, Pixie."

* * *

So this is Chapter 1! Hope you find it interesting. And no, Lemony is not her love interest. In case this chapter didn't at least clear that up. I realize I may have confused a few people with my prologue. But he's really just happy right then that Beatrice's sister isn't dead. Even if, maybe and probably, he'd be happier if Beatrice were the one that was still alive.

Anyways, let me know what you guys think. :)


	3. Investigating Monty & Josephine

Disclaimer: "I do not own 'A Series of Unfortunate Events'. Not the books, not the movie, not the TV series... none of it. I own Dusty, and any original content I make her do or say or add to this story. That is all."

* * *

Chapter 2: Investigating Monty and Josephine

It was becoming apparent that this entire mission was going to take longer than even she had anticipated. Partly because Olaf might've been an evil bastard… but he had never been the brightest to exist within VFD. He had enough smarts to make the cut, for sure. He wasn't stupid by any means. But… well, greed had a way of making even intelligent people do stupid things.

For example, if Olaf could've just pretended to be kind and nice to the children for three years, Violet would've turned seventeen, and he could've stolen the fortune then. Must simpler, though that particular plan would've required patience. Patience that Olaf, greedy and ridiculous as he often was, didn't possess.

Hence him trying to marry Violet. Seriously? Ew. And then the children being moved out of his care and into someone else's.

Dusty does regret being dead in that particular scenario. She would take the children in a heartbeat, keep the safe. And Olaf, whether he knew her as Dusty or simply by her new name Pixie, might never actually attempt to touch them again. Of all the people in the world, even the Man with Beard but no Hair, and the Woman with Hair but no Beard… Olaf feared Dusty the most.

Probably because he'd been holding her down when his new father figure had been carving a knife down her throat. Probably because she'd broken his arm and his leg when she'd finally gotten free. And probably because of the look she'd given him, a fire of hatred burning in her own eyes, before she'd left to seek the medical attention she desperately needed after that.

Of course, she'd passed out halfway to her destination. If _he_ hadn't been so vigilant in looking for her and found her… she probably would've ended up dead. But he had found her, and stayed by her bedside, and even kept her with him after she was released. He would've gone to her home to tend to her… but she knew how very important his job in VFD was. And since, according to him, it was either she stayed with him, or he stayed with her… well, she opted for staying with him. They both preferred his home anyway.

Dusty shakes her head to clear it. It wasn't that she didn't think about him anymore. She thought about him every day. But being this close to VFD again, so closely involved in trying to save the children, same as they were… it was making her thoughts drift to him more often. And that wasn't something she could afford right now. She needed to focus on getting them back, and on beating Olaf within an inch of his life.

She would not kill him. Some members of the schism deserved death. Some feared it so much, that it was the only true punishment to give them. But others, like Olaf, only feared continuing to live without their greed met and satisfied. So yes, in some cases, there were fates worse than death.

And no matter where Olaf went, or how he tried to acquire it, Dusty would ensure he never achieved any sort of wealth, for as long as he miserably lived. For that was the only way she was going to allow him to live. Miserably.

Though as she looks down at Monty's lifeless face, a fake snake-bite on his cheek… Dusty considers that it was possibly letting him live would be too good for him as well. If he lived, she would have to continue keeping tabs on him. Ensuring he didn't hurt anyone else. It could be done, for sure. She simply had to find him first.

But… perhaps there was a simpler way. But again, this would have to be thought out over time, and not immediately decided right now. Right now, finding the children was top priority. And now that they weren't with Monty, Dusty needed to figure out where else they'd gone. Who would Beatrice send them to after Monty?

Her phone rings, and Dusty taps the Bluetooth device in her ear and says, "What do you have for me, Flash?"

The voice on the other end, chipper as always, answers, "First of all, we're against Flash right now."

"Okay. Then what code name are you using this week?"

"What do you think of Green Lantern?"

"Too long. How about just Lantern?"

"I can work with that."

"Good. On a side note, you should really send out a weekly email or something so I can stop calling you by the wrong name every time you call."

"Perhaps. But I enjoy figuring out what to call myself with your valuable opinion thrown into the mix."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Lantern. Now, what do you have for me?"

He sighs, "Not much in ways of where the children are right now. The banker that's in charge of moving them might be fond of paperwork, but their system for storing all of it is ancient. It's not hard to get in. Just hard to find what I need."

Dusty sighs too, but says, "Well… keep punching, Lantern. You've never let me down before."

"And I don't aim to start now. By the way, we lost another guy this week. Pretty soon, it's just going to be you and me… and whatever other handful remains after that."

Dusty pauses in her perusal of Monty's study. Tilting her head, she asks, "You're about to suggest we just quit and start doing things on our own. Aren't you?"

She can practically see him nodding frantically before he says, "It used to be better, when you first joined. I admit to that. But now… I mean, as far as field agents go, you're all we've got that counts for anything."

Dusty grins, "And as far as technical intelligence, you're basically all we've ever had. Period."

"Well, I don't mean to brag. But yes."

Dusty laughs, "How would we do that though? It's not like they'd simply let us go."

"Oh, let them try to stop us. You're already out there, working on a mission they technically didn't give you. You don't see anybody lifting any fingers to stop you, do you?"

"You have point, I concede. What about on your end? You think they're just going to let you pack up your entire workshop up there and leave?"

"They won't let me take anything that's not mine. That's why, over the past ten years, I've been buying all of it. Most of it's in my name. I just need to pay for one last server, and then I'm golden. The only problem we'd actually have if we left, is money to fund future operations. I've been spending all of mine on my equipment. I'm basically broke."

Dusty stops moving entirely at that point. Raising an eyebrow at nothing in particular, she says, "You've been planning to defect for ten years? How did you even know at that point that I'd go with you?"

"Because you're loyal to an actual fault. And you've always called me your golden-boy when it comes to finding what you need. And because if I leave, you'll come with me so you can still keep tabs on _him._"

Dusty sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I told you to stop doing that though."

"Yeah… but you love the guy. So I didn't. Sue me."

"I might."

Silence for a moment, and then Lantern asks, "We good?"

Dusty shrugs, knowing he can't see it. It wasn't that she was upset with him. She was actually happy he was keeping tabs on the only man she'd ever love. It meant someone was making sure he was still safe.

Finally, she asks a question that, depending on the answer… well, it'll upset her either way, really. But she asks anyway, "Is he… happy?"

Lantern actually scoffs at her, but when he gets no reply, he asks, "Are you serious?"

"Obviously."

"Pixie… no, of course he's not happy."

Dusty frowns, "Why not? Did someone break his heart? I'll take them out."

"Yeah, well, that might be hard to do."

"Why?"

"Jesus, Pixie. Because you're the one who broke his heart!"

Sighing, Dusty says, "He's moved on by now."

"Have you moved on?"

"Obviously not."

"And he loved you as much as you loved him?"

"I… I mean, yes. But…"

"Then if you haven't moved on, how do you expect him to?"

"Because he thinks I'm dead, and I know he's still alive. He's not supposed to be clinging to the memory of a dead woman."

"Yeah, well, contrary to what you might think, some people are only built to love one person in their lifetime. Like your old friend Lemony."

"My sister has only been dead three months."

"And yet, based on the personality profile I made for him, he will never move on from her. He'll have no desire to. Just like your man has no desire to move on from you."

Dusty sighs again, and then freezes in place when Lantern says, "On a side note… if we defect and move out on our own… we'd be able to make our own rules. Still fight from the shadows. We both agree that's a good idea for us. But… well… we wouldn't have to be dead to everybody. Not to the people we know we can trust. Just to the rest of the world. And since your man, kind of, already isn't supposed to exist…"

"Lantern?"

"Yeah?"

"Please stop for now."

They let silence fall between them for a while. Nothing but the occasional clicking on Lantern's end making even the slightest of noises.

Finally, Pixie says, "How about we get the children first? And… maybe handle defecting for right now. Then… then maybe we can work out who can know we're alive. If anyone needs to know. And how safe it is for anyone we tell."

Lantern smiles on his end, "Sure thing, Pixie."

"So, how much do you need for the last server?"

"Ten grand."

"Jesus! How much does the damn thing actually cost?"

"I'd tell you, but then even you might have a heart attack."

Dusty rolls her eyes, "Fine. Access my account and wire the funds to yourself."

"But…"

"Don't even begin arguing with me. You know how much money is in there."

"Yeah… but it's yours."

"And if we're going to defect and be a two-man team, then I ought to contribute a little something to the cause. Other than my blades and arrows, I mean."

Lantern just laughs, "Fine. I've… actually already started the process of moving some things to my place. Not exactly a secure location, but the basement is always locked up tight so…"

But Dusty cuts him off, "No good. Have everything taken to my place. You can set up shop there. You can even move in, if that's more beneficial."

Smiling, Lantern says, "Sounds good. You do have a huge property. I've never understood that. I mean…"

Dusty just shakes her head, "Old habits. I always wanted a place where everyone I ever loved, if they needed to, could come and stay and live. And yes, I know I'm dead. So the odds of anyone ever coming are basically zero. But… old habits. Old dreams."

Lantern nods, but says, "Maybe not so old anymore."

"We'll talk about that after we have the children, and after we're defected. Also, make sure my address and any information pertaining to my permanent residence is wiped from the system before you complete the move. Having you at my place won't matter for shit, if they have that and just waltz up to the door."

"On it. Now, concerning the kids. I…"

Dusty's phone rings to let her know she's got another call. Seeing Jackie's number pop up, Dusty says, "Stay on the line. Track her to see if she's on her way here."

"On it."

She picks up after the third ring, "Jacqueline?"

"I'm alone."

Dusty smiles, "Hey Jackie."

"Hey. So… I assume you know by now that Monty's dead… and the children are being moved again."

"Yeah. Kind of got that. Any idea where they're going?"

"Yes. But… I have a condition."

Dusty raises an eyebrow, "I'm not thrilled about that… but I'll bite. What do you want?"

A pause on her end. And then Jackie asks softly, "Why did you have to leave? And I don't mean because you couldn't save people in the same way. I… I know you too well. What happened that…"

Dusty sighs, "You want the truth?"

"Always."

"I left because you people are still blind to just how dangerous these people really are."

Jackie blinks, "What?"

"Jackie… and I don't mean this to be rude. But you guys… you offer second chances to people who should not be given any. You try to make peace with people who simply don't want it. In a war, where both sides are fighting for what's best for their people, peace is a possible solution. But in this schism, where the side we're fighting against is only interested in what they want for themselves? There is no option of peace. They do not want it. They want to watch the world burn… simply for the sick sense of enjoyment it gives them."

Jackie's eyes are wide on the other end of the phone. Dusty sighs at her silence and adds, "I know you all mean well. And yes, there are times when a well-thought-out conversation can set everything back in order. But not with these people. That is why I left. Because I could see what was about to happen."

"What was about to happen?"

"The entirety of VFD was about to be destroyed. From traitors within, and the evil on the outside. Every single one of you was in danger, and you couldn't even see it. But I could. And I was already no more use to you guys in the way I once had been. So… I left."

Jackie tilts her head, "And you've been… fighting them directly? Ever since?"

"Yes. Others as well, on side projects. Others that fall into the same category they do. But… mostly anti-VFD."

Silence for a moment, and then Jackie says, "I… you may not believe me. But we are not completely blind. Not like we once used to be."

"Jackie…"

"I mean it. After you… after what they did to you… it was unforgiveable. And we have never forgiven it."

Dusty ponders that a moment, and then says, "You may not be blind, but you still shoot while aiming with only one eye. I aim with both. This is how I'm most helpful. This is how I frighten them and make some of them stop their plans before they can ever see the light of day. The look at me, they hear my new name… and then they run."

Jackie nods, and then says, "I… we miss you."

And she smiles a little when Dusty concedes, "I miss you guys too. You know that."

Jackie nods again, and then sighs before saying, "Um… the kids were taken to stay with Aunt Josephine."

"Josie? Why on earth would they get sent there?"

"What do you mean? Josephine is…"

Dusty rolls her eyes, "She _was_ fierce and formidable. Heavy emphasis on the _was_. Now, she's about as helpful as dog chasing it's own tail."

"Dusty?!"

"No offense. I'm just saying." Then she sighs and says, "Thanks, Jackie. Keep me posted."

"Please keep me posted too. Just… you know? Let me know you're alright at some point."

"I will. Bye."

Hanging up, Dusty then rolls her eyes when Lantern says, "I like her. We should bring her in to the circle of people who can know we still exist. After I finally get to your place, that is."

"Later."

"Fine. I'm chartering a private plane for you. Oh, and you should probably get to the airport immediately."

"Why?"

"Two reasons. One, it leave in half an hour. And two… your friend is apparently on the way to your location right now. She probably assumes you're there. Unless… can they track phone calls like we can?"

"Doubtful. They still live in a bit of an older age. Pretty sure Lemony is still obsessed with his type writer."

"Damn. How does he carry that around if he's on the lamb?"

"Very carefully, I imagine."

"Oh, haha. You're hilarious."

Dusty just grins, hurriedly heading out of the building and hoping onto her motorbike. Heading down the road, she asks, "By the way, how is the Lemony situation looking?"

Lantern sighs, "Still not good. I mean, I'm working on clearing his name… but it's not as easy as it looks. I mean… there's no one else to blame for what happened to Olaf's dad that night at the Opera."

Dusty realizes that there is someone else to blame though. She actually brings herself to a halt as the thought hits her. It wasn't exactly something she wanted to happen, or wanted to bring up. But…

Beatrice would've wanted it. Sighing and punching the gas again, Dusty says, "Actually… there is someone else to blame for what happened that night. Someone who isn't here any longer… so it can't hurt them to have it known what really happened."

The long pause after that makes Dusty ask, "Lantern? You still there?"

"I'm here. I just… are you sure you want to do that. I mean… she was your sister. I'm not going to start trying to put into effect the slandering of her name unless you're certain you want to do this."

Dusty thinks on it a long moment more. Then she finally nods, "It's what she would want. It's what she would've done for him, if he'd let her."

Lantern sighs, "You're a good woman, Pixie. More than anybody here will ever know."

"You know it. That's good enough for me."

"I'm flattered. I'll get to work on it. It's still gonna take time."

"Understood. Call me again if you figure anything else out about the kids."

"Roger."

* * *

The work Olaf did on Josie happened a lot quicker than it did for Monty. The kids were with him for at least a month before Olaf found them again. They were only with Josie for a few days before he found them again. And now they were gone, and Josie was dead.

And Dusty had missed them. Again.

The house was gone. It actually fell off the cliff that Josie had built it on, so there were no clues to be found there. Josie had been, at least from what Dusty has heard, fed to the Lachrymose leeches. Meaning there was no body to search for further evidence either… loath as Dusty would've been to do that anyway.

The banker, who was still currently in town, is a dumbass, so there was no way help was going to be found there. Olaf was gone, so she couldn't beat the crap out of him to figure out what he might know. And Larry…

Oh, Larry had been trying to help. She knows that. But VFD tried to work behind the scenes. Not in the shadows, like she did. Not by infiltrating that same darkness, the way she worked now. They used their disguises, their intellect, their tunnels to try and fight fire.

Dusty had one disguise. And it wasn't so much a disguise, as it was simply what she wore to hide her true identity from those who would recognize her, both enemies and friends alike. She didn't pretend to become someone else. She was, and always would be, Dustine Baudelaire. She had never known how to become someone else, and she never would master that ability.

But to be a ghost? To be a phantom? That, she excelled at with the utmost efficiency.

Bottom line though, Larry hadn't been able to help. He'd maybe delayed Olaf in his plans, long enough for the children to come up with their own plan of escape. But… Larry was still too slow to actually save the kids. VFD, nowadays, always seemed to be a step behind.

So did Dusty though. She might be closer than VFD, but she still wasn't close enough to get the kids. Not yet.

In the motel room she's staying in, she glances over at her phone when it goes off. Tapping the device in her ear, she asks, "Lantern?"

"Switching names again. I'm feeling more… Iron Man today."

Dusty grins a little, "Iron Man it is. What do you have for me?"

"Again, not much. But maybe together we can see a bigger picture. Maybe get an idea, at least."

"Sure."

"Okay. So, I hacked into some of the VFD recording devices that your old crew has in a lot of places. Really old tech, by the way. They need a serious upgrade."

"Believe me, I know. I'm pretty sure when Jackie calls me, it's from a phone that she has to carry in it's own purse."

"Damn. Well, anyway, I did spot the kids when they got back on the dock. And then there's images of Olaf… being discovered? I… I think the baby… Sunny, right? I think she bit his peg leg off or something."

Dusty just grins, "Bee did say she was a biter. What else?"

"Well, I lose the kids in the rush of people that come in to try and catch Olaf and his henchmen after that. Which, by the way, they don't succeed."

"Yeah, I figured that."

"Okay. But, before I lose the kids… well, there's something they're looking at. Something in their hands. I don't know… from the looks of it, it seems to be the thing that spurred them into action. At the very least, it kept them from leaving with Mr. Poe again."

Dusty lays back on the bed in her room and asks, "They aren't with Poe?"

"Nope. Why?"

"I don't know. He usually leaves in a hurry with the children after Olaf's been discovered. And he left in a hurry again. He did seem a bit more frazzled than usual… but I thought that was because two of the guardians had been murdered, and their first one had been a…"

Iron Man suggests, "Mad man?"

"To put it mildly, yes. So, they aren't with Mr. Poe."

"Affirmative."

"And you said something they were holding is what triggered them to move in another direction of their own?"

"I mean, it looks that way. But I can't see what's actually in their hands. Could be a photo? Could be a letter? It's too small right now for me to discern."

Dusty raises an eyebrow, "Right now?"

"Yeah, well, you know I'm not actually quitting. It's mostly the old tech your old crew was working with that's making it difficult. My tech can enhance everything, and then I can get us an idea of what they were looking at. But it's getting the stuff from their older system transferred to my more upgraded tech that's the problem. It doesn't want to be compatible."

Dusty grins, "You mean to tell me your tech and their tech have minds of their own and aren't cooperating with you? How shocking?"

"Haha, you're so funny. Like I said though, I'm working on it. It's just… taking me longer than I'd like. I know you want to find them fast."

"Don't stress Iron Man. You work slower when you're stressed. Just smooth the process out, and then don't forget how you did it this time. It may come in handy in the future."

"On it. You gotten any other calls from your girl, Jackie?"

"Not yet. But if the kids went off on their own, I doubt she has anything to offer in terms of knowing where they went. She'll call when she has something."

"Alright. And what are you going to do in the meantime?"

"Stay here. This is the last place the kids were located. And since we don't know where they went already, seems this would be the best place to look for clues. I'll stick by the docks. See if I can ask any of the local fishermen if they happened to notice where the three kids took off to. Worth a shot anyway. At least until you work out what they had in their hands."

"Roger. Anything else you need from me at the time?"

"Yeah. Move a little of my money into checking. Something tells me I'm gonna need to stock up on protein bars or something before I head out again."

"You got it. Anything else?"

"Just for you to be you, Iron Man."

"I'll need a suit for that."

"Yeah, well, you're the technological brain of this operation. Make yourself a suit. After you figure out what my nieces and nephew were holding."

"Roger. I'll let you know when I have something. Be safe, Pixie."

"Copy."

Touching the piece in her ear again to hang up, she sighs and closes her eyes. It was frustrating, to not be closer to them by now. Granted, part of it was because those kids were smart, could get themselves out of all kinds of trouble. Olaf kept chasing them, and they kept running away.

She didn't blame them for that. But if they had taken another day to choose a direction to run in, she would've been here in time to find them.

But, then again, maybe they didn't have time. Maybe it was a snap decision. One she'd agree with, at this point. Going with Mr. Poe anywhere, didn't seem to be the best option. He always seemed to be handing them over to people who were monsters, or people who couldn't handle the monsters that were coming after them.

Well, not Monty. Dusty had always liked Monty. He just… hadn't been braced for just how evil Olaf could be. Shooting with one eye open, rather than both, just like she'd told Jackie.

Dusty could work with snap decisions, so long as they were made by intelligent people. She made them all the time, in the heat of the moment, when things changed or were starting to go south. Sometimes, they were simply necessary. Sometimes, those snap decisions you make, based on how a situation or a person looks, end up making all the difference in the world.

That's what _he_ had told her… concerning the first time they'd ever met. And as Dusty drifts off, her mind drifts to that memory, letting her see it as a pleasant dream and reminder of her life before she'd faked her death.

_Flashback__:_

_She was newer to the organization, but not so new that she didn't know about the tunnels at this point. There were other members who still had to work up in the ranks before being informed about those. But Dusty knew about them. And she knew almost everyone in VFD now, and how to find them with the tunnels._

_But the tunnels went everywhere, in every direction. In fact, not even all of VFD, new were every single tunnel went. And Dusty had always preferred exploring and action, as opposed to debate and intellectual conversations like her sister. She didn't mind them, and she was good at them when she participated. But this… discovering new things that she hadn't seen before. This she enjoyed so much more._

_It's why reading interested her so much. Whether the books were fiction, or factual and telling her about daring things done in the past. If it taught her something or showed her something she didn't already know, she loved it. Her family had quickly discovered, even before she joined VFD, that if they actually wanted her to sit still for very long, they needed to hand her a book. Any book. It was why her family library had at least three bookshelves._

_But at this point… she's read all those books. And she's more interested in where the rest of these tunnels lead. She'd already memorized the paths to the Snickets, to Jackie, to Larry, to the Quagmires. She even knew how to get to the Hotel Denouement by the tunnels. Most everyone else did it above land. But she considered it a wonderful workout to get there by the tunnels, so long as she was given enough notice in advance of when she needed to be there._

_With her flashlight in hand, she was exploring some of the darker tunnels, where lights only got replaced when absolutely necessary. This one was near Hotel Denouement, but she'd already passed the entrance to get directly into the hotel._

_So what was this new door? Well… not new. It had obviously been here the same amount of time as the others. But… it was a different door. One she'd never seen before on her explorations. And one that she couldn't open. All the other doors that actually existed, those that weren't simply manhole covers in the road, her key would open. Well, and the required password. But this door… it had three locks, and her key didn't even fit in one of them._

_But nothing like that had ever stopped her before. She pulled one of the pins out of her long hair, and began working each lock one at a time. The first two were honestly easy. The last one was newer, and was probably meant to be a lock that couldn't be picked. But again, they hadn't worked to 'Dusty-proof' the lock… so there._

_And once she had it and opened the door… her mouth dropped open. She only managed to take one step inside, before she had to stop and just stare._

_It was a library… of sorts. But it was huge! All four sides of the room were basically made up of shelves. And every single row was full of books. Thousands upon thousands of books, it had to be. The ceiling of this place was at least a few stories high, and the shelves stretched up on all sides, all the way to the top. And they were all completely filled with books._

_Dusty didn't know what to think… except that this room might be a carbon-copy of what heaven would look like when she got there. Or at least, what her room in heaven would look like. When she finally closed her mouth and moved around, she scanned the books on the ground level, the ones she could reach. Some were familiar titles to her, but several were new to her eyes, and she couldn't help smiling at them._

_She was finally settling on one of them, pulling it off the wall, when a voice behind her said, "I have to say, I don't know whether I'm more impressed, or aggravated that you're in here."_

_Dusty span around, dropping the book she'd been sliding from the shelf onto the ground. She had half a mind to reach down and immediately pick it up… but at the man's eyes on her, somewhere between suspicious and angry at the moment, she decided she'd be better off to stand still._

_On his part, as he was looking her over suspiciously, he noted the confusion in her eyes. Then he saw the telescope in her hand, the ones that only VFD members owned and possessed. That relaxed him a little bit, but at this point, now she looked suspicious of him. Raising an eyebrow at her, he says, "Oh, and I suppose you have a question now?"_

_She's not really sure she's allowed to ask at this point… but she nods anyway. The man tilts his head at her, and then says, "Alright. What?"_

"_Who are you and why are you pretending to be one of the twins?"_

_He blinks at her, "Pardon?"_

_And regardless of what he thinks right now, or even who he is, Dusty rolls her eyes. Putting a hand on her hip, she says, "You're in disguise. You're pretending to be either Frank or Ernest. Why?"_

_The man tilts his head at her again, a tiny smile gracing his face. Stepping further into the room, pausing when Dusty backs further away, he asks, "How do you know I'm not one of them?"_

"_I know what they look like. You aren't either of them."_

"_They're twins. They're identical."_

_Dusty rolls her eyes again, "Just because they're 'identical twins', doesn't mean they look exactly the same. There are subtle difference in their faces and stance. Ernest has a mole on the left side of his face, near the back of his jaw, and Frank has a very light set of freckles across his nose." Then she concedes, "Most… people can't really see that. But I can! And I know you're not either one of them! And if you're a spy, or a fire-starter… I'll report you."_

_The man stares at her for a moment in complete shock. No one, except for their parents, and each other, had ever really been able to tell them all apart. But this young lady… who was clearly one of the newer members of VFD, knew immediately that he wasn't either of his brothers._

_His smile gentling, he holds up his hands in a tiny show of peace, and then says, "No, I'm not either of them. But I'm also not trying to pretend to be either of them."_

_Dusty doesn't look like she knows how to take that. And the man she was talking to hadn't noticed it before, but as he'd been coming further into the room, she'd been edging her way slowly around towards the door again. He didn't see the plan she'd come up with, until she was sprinting towards it._

_She was outside before he managed to shout, "I'm Dewey Denouement!"_

_The last name is what gave her pause. It was the same as Frank and Ernest. But they were twins, so this didn't…_

_She jumps further away from the door when he comes back to it, trying to see if she's still there or if she continued to run away. Smiling a little when he sees here there in the shadows, he adds, "And we're not twins. We're triplets."_

_Dusty blinks at him, then shakes her head, "N… No. There's… there's two."_

"_But you said yourself darlin'. I can't be either Frank or Ernest. And I assure you, I'm not in disguise."_

"_Prove it."_

_Dewey chuckles, "How?"_

"_I don't freakin' know! Just… do it!"_

_He holds his hands up in another peaceful gesture, and then says, "Here… come inside."_

_She looked hesitant about that as well, so Dewey stepped away from the door, heading inside himself, hoping when she made up her mind, she'd be joining him, and not leaving._

_When she finally stepped inside, hesitantly at first, he smiles from behind his desk and says, "Now… I've thought about how to prove it to you. And in all honesty, the only way I can think to do that, is to have you feel for yourself that I'm not wearing any sort of mask or disguise."_

"_Feel for myself?"_

"_Yes, darlin'. Indulge me, for a moment. Come here."_

_She steps closer to him, but he doesn't miss the way she tucks her pen strategically in the pocket of her jeans. Half-sticking out, easily accessed if need be. She probably, if need be, had every intention of using it as a weapon if he gave her reason._

_It was in her eyes. Those same sharp eyes that knew he wasn't Frank or Ernest. Sharp eyes that held more than just a gleam of curiosity… but a fire that he hadn't seen in quite some time. It kept a smile on his face as she stepped up to him, and then he closed his eyes as she reached hands up towards his face._

_There was no second skin or mask on him. No makeup that rubbed away when she pressed a little harder. She even tugged at his hair, which didn't budge and was definitely attached to his head. He gave her a look at that, though his growing grin said he was more amused now than anything._

_Finally satisfied, she asks, "But… then why does everyone in VFD think those two are only twins? Why have we never seen you? Aren't you VFD?"_

"_I am. But… for all intents and purposes, I'm not supposed to exist. Only to a select few."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because I'm sub-sub-librarian."_

_Dusty tilts her head, so Dewey takes a moment to explain that he is the protector and keeper of all this knowledge that comes to him. It was kept secret, protected, and safe. And it was his job to make sure it all stayed that way._

_By the time he's finished explaining it to her, she's sitting in one of the lounge chairs while he leans against his desk. After a while, she ducks her head. Tilting his at her, he asks, "What's wrong, darlin'?"_

_She just sighs, "I just… I did it again. Went snooping where I wasn't supposed to, found something I should've left alone… and now I've ruined everything."_

_Dewey chuckles, holding up his hands again when she glares at him. "Darlin', nothing is ruined here. So long as you can promise to keep this place, and me, a secret."_

_She nods at that immediately, standing up and preparing to leave. But Dewey puts a hand on her elbow and says, "What's the rush?"_

_Turning back to him, she asks in confusion, "I… I have to leave now? Right? I… It's secret, so now I have to…"_

_Dewey draws her back in, closing the door finally and locking it closed. Smiling gently at her, he says, "I admit, I'd appreciate it if you no longer picked the locks. I'd like them to last a while." She ducks her head again, but it springs back up eagerly when he adds, "But… well, this place isn't a secret from you anymore. And therefore, I see no reason why you can't stay. Or come to visit."_

_He ducks his own head now and adds, "I admit, part of that might just be because of my own lonely existence here. I can go out at times and pretend to be one of my brothers… but it is still lonely at times. So few people know I actually exist."_

_Dusty watches him for a few minutes, and then surprises him by reaching forward. Arms wrapping around his shoulders, she hugs him tight while saying, "Well, I can be your friend. You wouldn't have to be quite so lonely anymore. I could come… well, whenever you allow it."_

_His laughter almost makes her lean back, but he wrapped his arms around her waist at that point. Sighing, he says, "I'll have keys made for you. You can come back whenever you wish."_

_At that she does jump back what little he'll let her. Glancing between his eyes, she asks, "I… why?! You don't even know me! I mean… I'm VFD… but so is everyone else! Why wouldn't you make keys for one of them?! Why…"_

_Dewey bobs a finger gently against her nose, making her go silent and blink in shock and surprise. Then he shrugs and says gently, "Call it a hunch, darlin'. I think it'll be fun to have you here."_

_He releases her and walks across the room to retrieve the book she'd dropped before. Coming back and handing it to her, he motions to one of the chairs for her to sit again._

_As she takes her seat and book, she glances up at him and says, "Hunches and snap decisions such as this could get you killed one day?"_

"_I don't deny that, darlin'. But… sometimes those same decisions help us in the end. Sometimes, trusting our gut and going with that snap decision, makes all the difference in the world."_

_And he grins at the blush that came to her face when he added, "And wonderful and adorable as you seem, I think you are going to be one of the best snap decisions I've ever made."_

* * *

Chapter 2! Finally! :)


	4. Lucky Mills & Prep School

Disclaimer: "I do not own 'A Series of Unfortunate Events'. Not the books, not the movie, not the TV series... none of it. I own Dusty, and any original content I make her do or say or add to this story. That is all."

* * *

Chapter 3: Lucky Mills & Prep School

Dusty wasn't frustrated… per say. Though this was an incredibly frustrating situation. But she'd known from the beginning that it would be. She'd known from the start that catching up to the kids would not be easy. Her resources were limited. Granted, she had the one guy from her organization that actually knew what he was doing… but it was still only one person. And for the rest of her own research, she had to rely on what she could manage to get from the so called 'good people', who were ignorant as hell. Or what she could manage to eavesdrop and hear from VFD or the bad guys.

While Larry had still been at Lake Lachrymose, he hadn't learned any more than she did though. The banker, who had left almost right away anyway, wasn't helpful in the slightest. Dusty makes a note to not try and rely on him in any sense in the future. The one-percent of knowledge he might actually possess wasn't worth her having to listen to the other ninety-nine percent of worthless babble.

The locals were a little helpful. Simply because they knew all the trucks and vehicles that came and went on a regular basis from town. Iron Man called back only with the knowledge that, based on the timeframe of how quickly they had evacuated the perimeter of the town, they had to have had a faster mode of transportation than being on foot.

A taxi would be no good. Not unless Jacques was the one driving it. And even then… he was still VFD. A good agent, and a good man. Dusty doesn't deny any of that. But still a member of an organization that was shooting with only one eye open.

Regardless, there were several other supply trucks and vehicles that came and went on a regular basis. Dusty passed those onto Iron Man to see what he could come up with.

Just yesterday, he'd finally figured out how to convert all of the imagery collected from VFD tech to his own system. That allowed him to enhance the image and reveal that it was a picture. One of all the main members of VFD. Even she was in it.

Iron Man was going to print her out a copy, to help remember the good ole' days, as he called them. But that wasn't the part that interested Dusty most. It was the factory in the background. She remembered that mission well. Her sister and relatively new husband had saved that factory from burning to the ground, along with the entire forest around it.

Lucky Smells Lumber Mill. Dusty's not sure why, but she'd expected the place to be shut down at this point. Her sister had stopped the fire… but the place had still been severely damaged. The people had ended up fine, which had been the main concern. But so many buildings went up in flames before the fire could be put out. Not to mention, Dusty had heard her sister say that a lot of the people had planned to move away after the incident. With so many workers gone, how would the place still be able to function and make a profit?

And now… now she's standing at a factory that had apparently undergone a mutiny. The owner had been forcing his employees to work for nothing… except coupons, apparently. Forcing them through, hypnosis.

Georgina. Or Gina, as Dusty had once enjoyed calling her. That woman loved hypnotizing everyone. Literally, everyone. She'd done it once to Dusty when she was younger, even before she'd joined VFD.

That had prompted a series of classes and exercises in self-control on her part. It was part of why her eyes were so sharp, and why her calculated risks and snap judgments were never wrong. She taught her mind to function at a higher level. She wasn't a genius, or someone with a photographic memory. She could just, enter into an extreme state of focus with ease. It wasn't that hypnosis only worked on the weak-minded. It literally worked on anybody whose mind hadn't been trained to sense what it felt like, and to therefore push that feeling aside and avoid it.

But, judging from the fact that the cops were looking through the ashes of the furnace for remaining body parts… Dusty assumes she won't have to worry about that anymore anyway. Not that Gina had been, in her opinion, a very big or huge evil. Lucky Smells Lumber Mill hadn't even been on her radar, until the children decided to go there in search of answers.

Which was the frustrating part at this point. The children weren't here. And neither was Count Olaf. Both were gone, and she couldn't even ask the owner where he thought anybody had been taken. He was gone too.

His library was still here though. Dusty had been hoping to find answers there. A ledger, a list of employees or wards in his charge… something.

But the library was filled, literally, with the exact same book. "The History of Lucky Smells Lumber Mill." Dusty does flip through it briefly. Long enough to figure out why every single copy of this book is probably being hidden in this library. The chapter that records the fact that her sister and brother-in-law saved the town, has been blacked out. It actually seems to say that they were responsible for the whole thing in the first place.

Dusty grits her teeth, because that bit of information did frustrate her. Sighing, she takes a deep breath, and then presses the one on her speed dial. Tapping the device in her ear so it connects, as soon as the line is picked up, she says, "Please tell me you have something."

"Well… define something."

"At this point, literally anything."

Iron Man sighs, "I don't know where they are yet. But I do know that it was Mr. Poe that came to get them. More imagery from old VFD cameras shows he showed up in his car and they got in this time."

Dusty nods, "Jackie might know where they're going then."

"Want me to listen in while you call her?"

"Sure. Couldn't…" Before she even finishes the sentence, her phone buzzes to let her know she has another call on the line. Glancing down, Dusty comments, "Well, speak of the devil. Trace it too, Iron Man."

"Will do. And after that, we'll discuss my new name for the week."

"Sure." With that in mind, she switches to the other call, "Jacqueline?"

Jackie glances around one last time, just to be sure, and then says, "I'm alone."

"How are you, Jackie?"

"I've been better."

"What's wrong?"

"Well… possibly nothing. Potentially something."

"Lay it on me."

"Mr. Poe is taking the kids to some sort of boarding school. He couldn't remember the name before he left to find them. But he seemed to be under the impression that Beatrice and Bertrand would be rather pleased that they would end up attending there. So…"

Dusty pinches the bridge of her nose, "Prufrock Prep."

"That's what I'm thinking. I can call you when I have it confirmed. And maybe… maybe it won't be so bad there. It could be…"

"It wasn't good while we were there, Jackie. The only reason we survived is because we got recruited into VFD. We had each other. The kids… they aren't going to have anyone."

Silence reigns for a moment, and then Jackie asks, "So… what are you going to do?"

"Oh, I'm still going to get them. But… do you think Olaf will know where they are at this point?"

Jackie sighs, "I couldn't say, Dusty. I don't know how he's been able to stay on their trail all this time. I mean… he seems to somehow know where they're going before anyone else even does. And I don't…"

Dusty nods, "He has some sort of connections in his own organization. Someone pulling strings for him."

Silence again, and then Jackie asks, "Where are you?"

"The Mill."

"Were you at Lachrymose too? Larry was there."

"Yeah, saw him. He didn't see me."

A pause, and then Jackie says, "He… if nothing else, I'm sending him to Prufrock Prep. Maybe he can get the book to the kids. And get them out, if he finds out Count Olaf is there, or if they're being mistreated."

Dusty raises an eyebrow, "A book?"

"The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations. They're parents would've wanted them to…" But at Dusty's exhausted sigh, Jackie asks, "What?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that, after all this time, you people are still more concerned with books than the danger."

"Dusty, that's not fair. They're safe for now."

"They will not be safe until Olaf is made to understand that he cannot touch them. Or dead. One of the two."

Jackie gasps, and then asks, "You'd kill him?"

"You know who the Phantom Pixie is, Jackie. You know the reputation with the name. You know I've done it before. And yes, I will do it again."

Silence once more, and then Jackie says, "Beatrice would want them to have the book."

"She would also want them to live! They can read the damn book after they're assured some semblance of safety! Until then, forget the damn thing!"

She hangs up after that, pinching the bridge of her nose until she hears Iron Man say, "I'll change my name tomorrow. You're stressed."

"I'm fine."

"Yeah, right. You can't lie to me. Just like you could never lie to Dewey."

"Just shut up and get me a flight to Prufrock Prep."

"A flight?"

"It'll take too long to get there by car. I might still take too long to get there by plane, but that'll at least be faster in some respects."

She glances down at the book in her hands once more, and then says, "Also, I need you to force whoever originally printed 'The History of Lucky Smells Lumber Mill' to do a reprint. A massive one."

"How massive we talking?"

"I want the entire planet to be able to see what this man blacked out of every single copy that was originally printed."

"On it. One worldwide reprint coming up. Complete in all the different languages you can think of."

Dusty smiles slightly, but still sighs before saying, "Thanks Iron Man. Let me know where I need to catch my flight at. I'm hitting the road."

"Roger."

* * *

_Flashback:_

_She'd started by simply coming by once a week. She was still young enough at the time that it was all she could afford to come. Her parents would worry if she stayed gone so long more than that. But as she got older, moved into her own apartment, and became even more involved with VFD, she came three times a week. Then four… five… and then there was hardly a day when she didn't come by to see Dewey and his library._

_There was always a book pulled out for her to read too. He'd let her choose them at her leisure at first, but as he came to see which ones she was reading to start, he began trying to help pick some for her._

_As she walks in today, smile wide on her face, she steps in to find Dewey not at his desk when she gets there. It wasn't the most unusual thing. While he was a person who remained unseen, wasn't even technically alive anymore as far as the public was concerned, he did still help with the hotel his brothers ran. There were things he did beyond this room, and Dusty was accustomed to walking in sometimes and finding him not there._

_This was the first time she was wrong though. He was there. A new record had come in, and he was filing it away in its proper location. So today, when she came in and didn't think he was here, he got to see the way her smile vanished and her shoulders slumped in disappointment._

_Grinning, he turns back to the shelf he was reordering as he asks, "What seems to be the problem, darlin'?"_

_She jerked to see him at that, and her smile returned as she came up to his side. Looking over what he was doing, she says, "Let me guess. Lemony?"_

_Chuckling, he asks, "How ever did you guess that?"_

"_Easy. Lemony's the only one that sends this stuff to you this late in the day. When he's not supposed to. But, he knows you don't mind. Or, that whoever stores this stuff doesn't mind. He is not privileged enough to know that it's you."_

"_Indeed. That privilege belongs to only a select few. And to those whose curiosity has them picking locks and breaking into secret libraries without permission."_

"_You should've bought better locks."_

"_I got the best ones they have!"_

"_That's just sad then."_

_Dewey pinches her side, grinning when she giggles and punches him lightly in the shoulder. Then he returns to his original question, "But, back to the topic at hand, what's wrong darlin'?"_

_Dusty tilts her head in confusion, but then her eyes widen a bit when Dewey adds, "You came in with the same beautiful smile as usual, and then it vanished into a frown. An equally beautiful frown, don't get me wrong. But what happened to cause such a shift in your mood so suddenly?"_

_She turns away from him, pretending to be fascinated with another of his shelves. It wasn't the craziest thing to try. She was always fascinated with all the books here. But her hair was pulled back in a ponytail today. Giving Dewey a perfect view of her neck as a blush slowly worked it's way up and into her cheeks._

_Dusty pauses when he chuckles, and then freezes altogether when, though she'd thought he was simply stepping behind her to go back to his desk, she feels a finger land on her shoulder. She really shouldn't wear these shirts that only barely hung onto her shoulders._

_The back of his knuckle slowly moves across the back of her shoulder, going in and moving towards her neck. His whole finger slides slowly up the side of her neck, ending at the back of her jaw before leaving her skin. And Dusty's already blushing neck heightens in color when he whispers in her ear, "I should leave my desk more often. This is very interesting."_

_Dusty turns to him when he finally steps away, the heat of his body leaving her letting her know that he wasn't there anymore. Already back at his desk, he gently taps the book at the edge and says, "I thought this would interest you today, darlin'."_

_Her sharp eyes were slightly narrowed at him, which he found all the more adorable and beautiful. He'd teased her before when she'd been in the room with him, but this had been his boldest attempt yet. She was no delicate flower, by any means. He'd read reports, seen how she'd handled certain situations. He knew she could handle a bad guy flirting with her for a while, and could even play along until it was time to make her move. But with him…_

_As he thinks on it more while she takes her book and sits down in what had now been deemed 'her' lounge chair… he was the only person who could tease her and get a real reaction. He was the only one who had the power to get that out of her._

_She didn't care what anyone else said or tried to do to her… least as far as that went. She cared about what he did… and how much he meant it._

_And judging from the fact that she was taking more than three minutes to flip to the next two pages… the gears in her head were working overtime trying to figure out what exactly his touch and words had meant._

_He only became aware he was staring at her when she suddenly looked up, blinked in surprise, and then asks, "What?"_

_He blinks himself, but then just smiles and shakes his head. Standing from his desk, he moves in front of her chair, bending down in front of where she's sitting._

_Her confused expression only made him smile gently again, and then he held out his hand while asking, "Give me your hand, darlin'?"_

_She still doesn't appear to understand what he's doing… but regardless, doesn't mind. Closing the book, she places her right hand in his left, waiting to see what he intends to do with it. For his part, he lets his thumb run over her fingers for a moment, simply brushing across her knuckles._

_When he drew it up to place a gentle kiss to her fingers, the blush returned to her neck. But he wasn't trying to tease her anymore. Drawing her hand in closer, covering it with his free hand, he makes sure he has her gaze held in his before saying, "Regardless of what exactly caused you to frown so quickly when you arrived… or why you so quickly went back to smiling… darlin', I need to know you believe me."_

_Her blush was still present, but she didn't duck her head or break away from his gaze. She seemed to bite the inside of her cheek for a moment, but then released it and asks, "About what?"_

_Dewey simply smiles, "That you're beautiful."_

_She does break his gaze then, and she laughs a bit nervously, "Dewey… I…"_

_One of his hands gently grips her chin, forcing her gaze back to his. Shaking his head, he says, "Yes, I say it all the time. But no, I don't say that to every pretty face I ever get to see. I say that to you, because I've seen you. I know you. And you are beautiful." Lowering his head, eyeing her with a bit more seriousness, he asks, "Believe me?"_

"_Okay!"_

_Grinning at her hushed outburst, he finds her chin swiftly removed from his grasp as she averts her gaze again. This time she uses her free hand to cover her face, which is becoming as red at her neck._

_When she dares to peek out at all, her eyes blow wide when she finds him so much closer. He'd risen from his crouched position in front of her, only to lean in as close as he could. Hands braced on the arms of the chair she was sitting in, he says with a smirk, "I'm not so sure you actually believe me yet."_

"_I said I did!"_

"_Yeah… but I'm not convinced. I think you're lying to me."_

"_Why would I…"_

"_To make me leave you alone."_

"_That's ridiculous!"_

"_And why is that?"_

"_Because I hardly ever want you to leave me alone."_

_Her skin isn't even pink anymore. Flaming red rushes up to her face as she realizes what he managed to force her to blurt out. Damn it to hell!_

_Dusty honestly wasn't used to be teased or flirted with so much. When bad guys did it, that didn't matter. They were never an option. And when she'd been in school, even though she had been in a younger class than her sister, she'd always considered herself the less beautiful of the two. She'd had maybe one boyfriend… and then she'd figured out he'd only done that to win a bet, and she'd kind of given up on guys after that. But Dewey? He was… well, he was special. He wasn't just a friend. He was always happy when she arrived. He thought she was smart, wonderful, and pretty…_

_No, not pretty. Beautiful. He always called her beautiful. And darlin', which she was actually even fonder of. But, bottom line… she wasn't used to this much attention. Teasing or serious in nature. Particularly from someone like him. Someone that, yes, she did want this sort of attention from. But, and she was only discovering it now, but she has no earthly idea what to do with the attention._

_Dewey didn't seem to mind though. Or he actually liked what reactions he was getting from her. But today, Dusty is about ready to burst at the seams._

_The hand that gently lands at the side of her neck… that's not a tease though. The thumb rubbing against the back of her jaw was more soothing than anything else. It was warm and comforting and Dusty actually sighed in relief from the feeling. Dewey still chuckled at her reaction, which grew louder when she mumbled, "Shut up."_

_He squeezed gently, continuing the motion with his thumb for a while. It pleased him more than she would ever know, to be the only person that could get her so worked up, and then also be the only person who could calm her down and help her relax just as quickly._

_Dusty opens her eyes when she feels her hand tugged gently. As Dewey stands up straight, bringing her to stand with him, she asks, "What?"_

"_Do you dance?"_

_She blinks at that, "Um… I mean… some. I… I'm not that great."_

_Dewey just grins, "You're lying again."_

"_You don't know that."_

"_Yes, I do, actually."_

"_How?!"_

_He raises an eyebrow at her as he moves to the record player in the room. Setting up one of the records, winding up the machine, he comes back and holds out his hand to her. Dusty just crosses her arms though, eyes narrowed. She wanted an answer to how he knew she was lying. Her sister was the singer, but Dusty had always been the more athletic of the two. Not that Bee couldn't dance… but Dusty's flexibility and lightness on her feet made her the better partner._

_Dewey simply comes closer and takes her hand anyway, pulling it away from her chest. Drawing her in as the soft music begins playing, he says, "Consider it one of the perks of being around you as often as I have been privileged these past few years."_

"_Me?"_

"_Yes, darlin'. I'm a ghost, remember? I read about everyone constantly, and in that sense, I know about them very well. But you? You, I actually spend time with. I get to see you, confirm things I've read."_

_The hand he places against her lower back pulls in her even closer. Leaning down towards her neck, he breathes in deeply, "And I get to see things that no one else, for some idiotic reason, ever pays attention to. Such as the way your lip twitches on the left side when you tell even the tiniest of lies."_

_Dusty sways with him for a moment, and then drops her head onto his shoulder. Wrapping her free hand around his shoulder, probably holding tighter than she needs to, she says, "Don't ever tell my sister. I'll never be able to plan a surprise party ever again."_

_Dewey chuckles, "I won't ever tell a soul, darlin'. You can trick whoever else you ever want, and I'll have all the confidence in the world that you have your reasons, and all the best intentions." Squeezing her even closer, resting his nose against the smooth curve of her neck, he says, "But, and don't be offended, darlin'. But you'll never be able to lie to me."_

_And he hadn't been able to help smiling wide when her response had simply been, "Good."_

* * *

Dusty snapped awake to the sound of her phone ringing. Sighing, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she taps at her ear, "What's up?"

"Well, hello to you too, Sleeping Beauty."

"Iron Man, you know I'm not any fun until I've had at least ten minutes to wake up."

"Yeah, yeah. Well, how about we start with my new name then?"

"Sure. And what hero are we going with this time?"

"I'm really feeling Spiderman right now."

"I'm shortening it to Spidey."

"Love it." He pauses after that for a moment, and then asks, "Think you're ready for it?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"What kind of news do you have for me? And is this plane about to land?"

"Well, the plane is about to land. As for the news…"

Dusty pinches the bridge of her nose, "You have good and bad news, don't you?"

"It's like you know me or something."

"Shit. Good news first."

"The kids were definitely at Prufrock Prep. So was Olaf. They evaded him and exposed him. Again. These nieces and nephew of yours are something else."

Dusty grins, "They're Bee's kids. Shouldn't expect anything less."

"Noted."

"Bad news?"

"They're not there anymore. And… well, I'm not sure what kind of news this applies as. They made friends with two other kids that recently became orphans. Last name… Quagmire."

Dusty's eyes snap open, "Quagmire?"

"Yeah. You know that name?"

"Well, yeah. Their parents were VFD too, same as Bee and Bertrand. You mean to tell me they're dead now too?"

"Affirmative. And… apparently one of the kids died in that fire too. Quigley, if I'm correct."

"Are you ever wrong?"

"Hardly ever. Thank you for noticing."

"The other two are Duncan and Isadora, right?"

"Also affirmative."

Dusty takes a moment to think about all that. "Alright. What happened to them sucks, but knowing about the Quagmires is good. Add them to the list."

"The list?"

"The list of people I apparently need to rescue. Because if Olaf was at the school same time they were, you can bet your ass he knows they have a fortune too. And he'll want it just the same as he wants the Baudelaire fortune."

"Alright. I know you might not want to hear it… but you may need to switch priorities then."

"Why?"

"Because Olaf kidnapped the Quagmires."

Sighing, Dusty says, "Shit. Where are Violet, Klaus and Sunny going?"

"Working on that. There's more surveillance at the school then there has been in these other places. I can have the info for you in a couple of hours."

Dusty shakes her head, "Not good enough. I need to be heading towards them now."

"Okay. How do you want to handle it then?"

"Any idea who would already know where they're going?"

"That principal might. He was there when the kids were being taken away by Mr. Poe. He seemed rather upset that Sunny was leaving for some reason. I don't have audio on that part."

Dusty smirks, "He's the vice principal. And getting him to talk will be easy. Is that all?"

A pause, and then Spidey says, "No."

Dusty frowns, "What's wrong?"

"You're not going to like it."

"I already don't like most of this. How could it get worse?"

"Trust me. It gets worse."

* * *

Jacqueline had been at the hospital with Jacques and Larry. That's when the bulky phone in her bag rang. Pulling it out, she immediately says, "Mr. Poe, I can't…"

"Jacqueline."

She pauses at the sound of Dusty's voice. Looking up at both men, who are now looking at her curiously, she watches their eyes widen when she says, "Hello, Pixie. It's good to hear from you again."

Dusty doesn't miss that Jackie is using her new moniker. Meaning she was with other VFD members. But that was only a side note right now. Glaring at the type-writer where an infant had once been forced to sit, she repeats in a lower tone, "Jacqueline."

Even with twenty years of her being gone… Jackie knew that tone. It was a tone that implied she had screwed up, and Dusty expected an explanation for why. Because as far as she could see, there was no reason for something so stupid to have taken place. Jackie wracks her brain, trying to come up with something she'd done wrong. Finally, she just says, "I… where are you?"

"I'm at Prufrock Prep. Where the children… all the children… should be."

"Oh, good! You can…"

"Jacqueline… the children _should_ be here. They are not here anymore. The Quagmires have been kidnapped by Olaf. And your boss is taking the Baudelaire's to God-knows-where."

Jackie gasps, "What?"

"Where is Jacques?"

And at that, Jackie blinks. Glancing at the Snicket in the room, she says, "I… how do you know…"

"Why did he leave the kids?"

"It was…"

But Dusty doesn't let her finish that thought either. Kicking at the Vice Principal, whom she'd tied to his own chair, she watches the blood spurt from his mouth as he falls back and hits the floor. As his head lolls to the side in a faint, Dusty glares and says, "Jacqueline, I am aware that Larry had frostbite. I am aware what Olaf did to him was cruel and unkind. But, Jacques couldn't take another five minutes to grab the kids? He spent a good ten minutes arguing with a worthless bratty fourteen-year-old… but he couldn't take the time to rescue the kids we're actually supposed to be looking after?"

Silence meets her, Jackie's eyes wide as she stares at Jacques across from her. He comes closer, taking the phone from her frozen hand and asking, "Who is this? And do please…"

Dusty is certain he had several colorful words and elegant sentences prepared to string together for her to hear. Tapping the device she'd put against her throat, allowing it to alter what her voice sounds like, she says in a distorted tone, "You are a complete and total idiot, Jacques Snicket. Give the phone back Jacqueline."

Jacques blinks, "How do you know I'm…"

"I know a great deal, Jacques. I know you are a rather intelligent man. I know you have a fine way with words and poetry. I know you like your tea as bitter as you can possibly get it. And I know that, in spite of your rather intelligent brain, you are still a complete and total idiot."

Jacques prepares to argue the point, but the voice over the phone cuts him off with, "You left them."

Blinking, he asks, "Beg your pardon?"

"You left them at the school. With Count Olaf. All of them. The Quagmires and the Baudelaire's. And now the Quagmires are kidnapped, the Baudelaire's are being moved, and Count Olaf is in the wind. Again."

Wide eyes finding Jackie's, Jacques asks, "Who are you?"

"Phantom Pixie, though I'm sure you already heard that when Jackie said it. My current assignment; rescue the Baudelaire's. Consequently, an assignment that should concern you as well. An assignment that should be at the top of your priorities. And you left them!"

Dusty pinches the bridge of her nose through her mask, and then lowers her tone while adding, "And if they end up hurt, dead, or harmed in any way after this point, you are going to need to learn how to disappear and run like I can. Because I will personally make sure my next assignment, will be to tear you into a million-fucking-pieces. Now, give the phone back to Jacqueline."

She waits until she hears the phone finally exchange hands again. Jackie's voice trembles as she says, "We… we didn't…"

Dusty doesn't wait to hear it. She has no time for excuses. That was one thing that had always frustrated her about VFD. When things went right, everything was seen as fine. But if anything went wrong, there were a million other things outside of their control that caused them to almost fail. And currently, VFD wasn't just 'almost' failing. They were just straight up failing.

It had been a while since they had to deal with the truest dangers and threats to their organization. She'd been taking them down peg by peg for twenty years now. And she realizes now, through her work against anti-VFD, she has also been sheltering her once dear friends from the true horrors and terrors they were capable of.

Pinching the bridge of her nose again, Dusty doesn't try to temper her tone. The edge is still in her voice when she says, "I am going to find my nieces and nephew. I am going to find the Quagmires. You will make it your mission, your single purpose in life, to inform me the very second you hear anything to tell me where they are and how to intercept Olaf so I can save them. Anything less than that, and you will lose my fucking number. As for the rest of your blind-ass organization, tell them to stay the hell out of my way."

She hangs up unceremoniously after that, glancing at the vice principal who was now drooling onto the floor. Rolling her eyes, she presses the device at her throat again so she can talk normal, and then speed dials the only person she really can trust on this mission.

"Hello, Pixie."

His somber tone told her well enough that he was still looking for the exact location of Olaf, or any of the kids. Tears actually well up in Dusty's eyes, but she takes a deep breath to calm herself and says, "I got a general location from this dumbass of a principal. We're heading back to the city, not even a whole fifteen miles from where Bee's house used to be."

Spidey answers, "I'm trying, Pixie. You know…"

"Spidey… can I be blunt?"

The voice on the other end pauses a moment, but then answers, "Yeah. Just… be gentle?"

"I don't have time. And I don't have time for you to just 'try'. I need you. All of you. I don't even just need one-hundred percent. I need three-hundred. I need everything you have to give me, and then a-thousand times more."

Gasping in a breath as she quickly exits this school, she says, "I am never going to find these kids on my own. I don't have the technical know-how to get there by myself. And I don't have anyone else to help me. All I've got is you. Understand? And I… I have to find these kids."

The silence that follows isn't necessarily tense. It's just thick, because Spidey doesn't know what to say at first. He'd been working personally with Dusty ever since he first joined their old organization as a kid. She'd hand-picked him to be her technological-handler. Because while everyone else only saw a punk kid with a laptop, she saw all that he already was, and all that he would turn into, if given the chance. He was the absolute best. Half of that was through his own constant studying and brain-power. But the other half, the half that he'd obtained through the experience he'd gotten by being her handler… he owed all of that to her.

And he was letting her down. He wasn't trying to, and he knows that she's aware of that. But this wasn't just some other assignment. This was family. She couldn't fail at this.

Dusty hears his fingers crack over the line, and then he says, "You have me, Pixie. All of me. And I will nail this. I promise."

She nods, and then can't help it. She laughs when he adds, "Though I am going to use some of your funds again. Boost the satellite and internet signal in this whole place. And I'm going to need energy drinks. Lots and lots of energy drinks."

Dusty smiles, "Drain the account if you have to, Spidey. Whatever you need. Just get me to them."

"You can count on me, Pixie."

"I know, Spidey. I know."


	5. The Vile Village

Disclaimer: "I do not own 'A Series of Unfortunate Events'. Not the books, not the movie, not the TV series... none of it. I own Dusty, and any original content I make her do or say or add to this story. That is all."

* * *

Chapter 4: Vile Village

She didn't reach them in time in the city. Not for any fault of Spidey's. At least, she wasn't blaming him. He was blaming himself a bit, because even after she reached her general destination, it took him a bit longer to find an exact address.

Dusty keeps telling him that both the Quagmires and the Baudelaire's were gone long before she'd even managed to reach what she'd thought their general vicinity should've been. It wasn't his fault.

That being said, she was very pleased with how quickly he was able to tell her their next location. It took him an hour of scouring footage from the city and old VFD spy camera footage as well, but compared to their timeline before, it was impeccable.

Dusty can see why, even after all the terrible places Mr. Poe had taken them already, the children would've gone with him to this new town. Because it was entitled VFD.

She's sure they didn't know what it stood for at the time. The Village of Fowl Devotees. Not that it would've mattered anyway. The children probably didn't yet know what the organization's definition of VFD was supposed to mean. They were grasping at whatever they could to try and understand their parents' past. Because understanding that, just might help them ensure that they'd still have a future.

Of course, Dusty was still a day behind them when they figured all of this out. Which meant chartering another private plane that could get her within dropping distance of the village. There was no landing strip way out there, Dusty knows that from Spidey's description of the place. But she'd jumped out of planes before, landing in much more crowded and dangerous terrain than where she was currently trying to go. Landing on the outskirts of this town safely would be a breeze.

As she makes her way onboard, Spidey says through her comm, "You should catch up on some more sleep. You've been up twenty-four hours straight now."

"I've run on less."

"Yes, I'm aware. And I've never been happy about that. But since there's nothing more you can do while on the plane, get some sleep. I'm going to keep going through old footage. See if I can get a jump on where Olaf or the kids might try to go next."

"Sounds like you don't think I'm going to reach the village in time to catch them myself."

"I'm trying to be like you. Plan for every possibility. Obviously, I want you to find them there. But if you don't, I want to be ready to tell you where to go next."

Dusty smiles, "Good. I've trained you well."

"Yeah, yeah. Now do me a favor, and actually listen to me, your handler, for once. Go to sleep."

Dusty goes silent for a moment, but then sighs and admits, "It's not that easy anymore."

"Why? You need a pill."

"No. It's not the getting to sleep part that's the problem."

"Then what is?"

She bites the inside of her cheek, and then says, "It's… I… I'm dreaming. About him. Again."

Dusty hears the furious typing stop on the other end of the line. Spidey knew exactly what she was talking about. Though he hadn't been there when she'd originally joined their old nameless organization, he'd learned through being her handler that her nights were usually long and lonely. When she'd first arrived, first started getting used to having to live the rest of her life as a ghost, she'd never gone a single night where she didn't have dreams of her old friends and comrades.

Mostly though… she dreamed about Dewey. And she'd always wake up and find some place to be alone. Spidey, after becoming her handler, had found her one time. When he'd joined and she'd picked him, her dreams weren't as often as they had been. But she still had them, and they still made her cry.

She'd left them for a good reason, for noble and honorable reasons. But that didn't mean she still didn't want them. Want to see them, hold them, and even simply be near them.

Becoming friends with Spidey was honestly how she'd eventually managed to not have so many dreams anymore. She didn't cry as soon as she woke up from them, and didn't feel the ache in her heart quite as much as she used to. But with her hunt for the Baudelaire children. Being this close and in contact with VFD again… it was bringing all of those old dreams back.

And pleasant as they were; these memories that she'd see in her sleep… it was still a bit painful.

Spidey finally says, after a long pause, "Maybe you should think of him in a happy way now. Like… what we talked about? We're on our own now, you and me. Doing our own thing. We don't have to be ghosts to your friends anymore. We could have some of the join us even, but on the instructions that they can't continue doing things the way they always have. A way that has only half worked… and isn't even really working now, at this point."

Dusty sighs, "We'll discuss that after I've found the kids."

"I know, I know. That's what we agreed. I'm just saying… it's doesn't have to be bad. And maybe… maybe we can make it possible for you to be with him again."

Dusty doesn't respond to that. Settling into her seat, she instead says, "I'll try to get some sleep. Call when I need to get ready to jump out of this thing."

"Sure thing, Pixie."

"And Spidey?"

"Yeah."

Another pause, and then he hears her say softly, "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Pixie. Get some sleep."

* * *

_Flashback:_

_Dewey was watching as Dusty paced back and forth in front of his desk, his phone against her ear. The cord kept moving back and forth with her as she moved… but he didn't mind that._

"_But I don't need a date! I can go by myself!"_

_Her sister, Beatrice, was on the other end of the line, apparently insisting that Dusty attend her latest opera with someone. It was apparently a romance. Beatrice wasn't normally into those, usually being part of the tragedies rather than romantic tales. But she'd auditioned for this one anyway, and was now very insistent that Dusty attend with a partner, rather than by herself._

"_Why does it have to be him?!"_

_Dewey isn't sure who 'him' is. And the idea of Dusty taking a date to this opera wasn't really bothering him yet, since she seemed to be so very against the idea. And also, against the person Beatrice was wanting her to attend with._

"_Fine! Just… fine! But I want it on record that I am only bringing a date, because you're my sister and I love you."_

_When she finally hangs up, Dusty pinches the bridge of her nose before saying, "I'm already not fond of these things. I only ever pay attention to my sister's parts. And now, she's forcing me to take a date."_

_Dewey grins a little, "The audacity."_

"_Oh, shut up."_

_Chuckling, he asks, "And who is the young man that will be escorting you that you are so greatly against going with?"_

_Dusty shrugs at that, "Jacques Snicket."_

_And at that, Dewey freezes in place. The Snickets, even more so than any of the other groups in VFD, were basically legendary. Dusty may not have even had a great deal of contact with them before. She may just be basing her opinion on the fact that she didn't want to take a date at all._

_Lemony, Jacques, and Kit Snicket were like the rock stars of VFD. Those who hadn't met them, wanted to. Those who had met them, wanted to spend more time with them. And those who were 'lucky' enough to find themselves in a relationship with one of them…_

_Dewey stood up from his desk to put a book away, refusing to meet Dusty's gaze again right now. She didn't want to take a date to this opera… but once she met Jacques Snicket? Once he'd held her hand, kissed her fingers, presented her with a rose and wrapped an arm around her? Oh… she'd be smitten. Jacques would probably have himself a new girlfriend before the night was through._

_And Dusty… she'd stop coming to see him. Oh, she would never reveal his location. He knew that much for certain. But… if Jacques Snicket became her boyfriend, she'd stop coming to the sub-sub-library. She wouldn't have time to visit the sub-sub-librarian._

_Forcing his voice to sound relaxed, he says, "Well, I suppose you should head on home and get ready."_

_When she doesn't respond, he turns back to look at her. She's already looking at him though, eyebrows drawn together in confusion at the moment. Tilting her head, she asks, "Are you alright, Dewey?"_

_He forces a smile, "Of course, darlin'."_

_Dusty frowns, "You don't look fine."_

"_And why is that?"_

"_You look… well, unhappy. Miserable comes to mind, actually."_

_Dewey grins at that, working to try and force some of his usual cheeriness back into his features. Coming up to her, tracing the side of her face with his fingers, he says, "I'm fine, darlin'. Now… you should probably go. Bee will be rather disappointed if you're late."_

_Dusty shrugs at that, though her scrutinizing gaze doesn't leave his face quite yet. She still wasn't convinced he was fine._

_He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. Then he says, "Go, darlin'. I'll be here when you get back. I'll always be here."_

_She eventually does leave, still with a look on her face that said she wasn't completely convinced or satisfied. Even as she exits and closes the door behind her however, Dewey finds himself staring after her._

_The room felt incredibly empty without her here. Not that it didn't always get that way when she had to leave… but with the idea that she wouldn't be coming back, it was somehow magnified._

_Dewey would have to ask Frank or Ernest to come down and pretend to be him for a night. He needs a breath of fresh air, before resigning himself to the complete conclusion that he'd lost Dusty for good._

_That last thought makes him close his eyes tightly. She'd never been his. Not in any sense that would give him a right to claim he'd lost her. They weren't dating. They'd flirted, sure, but they'd never become a couple. He didn't have the right to be this miserable about her not returning to him. Or this mad and frustrated._

_But he was. He wanted her, more than he'd realized before. And now, she was gone._

_Damn it._

* * *

_Dusty was mumbling every curse she knew under her breath as she ran down the tunnels as fast as she could. When Beatrice had insisted she go with a date, she should've assumed there was more to it than just not being alone during a romantic opera. She also should've known that Beatrice wouldn't have auditioned for a romantic opera in the first place, unless there was a bigger reason behind it._

_One of the figurative fires that needed snuffing out. One that Dusty hadn't been a part of during the planning stage. She still isn't sure how tonight's plan, talking to one of the main actresses during the show, was supposed to put out this particular fire._

_All she knows, is that it had both worked… and yet not worked. The main actress, who VFD had been targeting, had been taken care of. But one of the extras on set, who was still a much smaller problem… well, he hadn't been taken care of. He'd set a fire to the back of the stage, and then all hell had broken loose in the theatre._

_Jacques had made an attempt to be valiant. When she'd arrived at the opera house, he'd presented her with a red rose, offered his elbow, and had attempted charming her with eloquent words and soliloquies. And to some women, Dusty is sure he would've seemed the perfect gentleman. And it wasn't that he wasn't a nice person. He was, she supposes._

_But that was part of what she found so utterly annoying about him. He was an endless fountain of fancy words, sweet sayings, and intellectual conversation. Not that those things weren't nice… but Dusty could only handle so much. And she's sure he didn't mean it the way she took it… but every time he opened his mouth with another long sentence… she felt like he was speaking in such a way as though to make her feel less intelligent than he was._

_Again, she's certain he doesn't mean it that way. But she can't stand it. And then he had the nerve, after the fire started, to try and hold her back and declare that he would keep her safe, since she had so little experience fighting. What the hell did he know about her experience? She was the only one among them who was actually any good at fighting. All the others preferred conversation, trying to avoid the conflict, prevent it from happening at all. But Dusty… she already knows that isn't always the option._

_Sometimes, whether you liked it or not, you really did have to fight fire with fire._

_In the end, she'd actually ended up saving his life. She shoved him back and out of the way in time to avoid an arrow to the chest. Then she threw a dagger that she'd hidden beneath her dress, strapped to her leg, and snagged the guy with the crossbow in the shoulder._

_And now she was down here in the tunnels, running for her life. Her high-heels had been ditched long ago, and she was barefoot, splashing through puddles occasionally. She kept having to hike-up her dress to not trip over it. If she still had her dagger, she'd be able to cut a portion of the bottom off. A thing that would probably make her sister go wide-eyed in shock… but Dusty wouldn't have cared. She could always find a new dress if she was that desperate for one. But if this long black material ended up causing her to get caught, or trip… oh, she was going to be pissed._

_There were others in the tunnels with her. Some voices she recognized. Others, she knew to be the enemy._

_And one Jacques Snicket was looking for her too, trying to remind her that she could come to him, and he would keep her safe._

_Right. Because he'd done such a bang-up job the first time. Nearly getting himself killed so he could try and play the hero… a hero she consequently didn't need._

_If Dusty weren't out of breath, she'd scoff at the idea of trying to find him so they could handle this 'together'. Instead she takes a sharp right, hoping to draw the enemies to continue following her. There was still much about these tunnels that she didn't know yet. Still many paths she needed to memorize. But she knew enough to know she could escape and get away, if she just kept moving._

_Of course, the hand that reached out from a dark corner, grabbing her elbow and yanking her back, didn't help her with that particular endeavor. As she was pulled into a shadowy pocket that she'd never seen before, she struggled to throw a punch at whoever had grabbed her._

_He spins her around though so her back is to him. One hand over her mouth, the other wrapped around her waist, he whispers, "Quiet. Stay still and quiet."_

_Dusty froze for a moment in surprise. She hadn't been expecting Dewey to be here. Why was he out of the library? Not that he always had to be there… but why wasn't he there now?_

_Dewey feels her relax in his arms after a moment, and so he removes his hand from her mouth and whispers in her ear, "Sorry, darlin'. Just stay quiet with me for a moment. Everything will be fine."_

_So they stand there, until Dusty finally hears footsteps rushing towards them. The bodies beyond this little pocket speed past them, no one even glancing in their direction. The darkness they were hiding in did its' job of concealing them well._

_Finally, Dewey steps out first, and then extends a hand for her to take. Guiding her back down several tunnels, he brings her back to the library and quickly ushers her inside._

_Sighing once he has the doors locked again, he turns to her and asks, "Are you alright?"_

_Dusty shrugs, "Been better. My feet hurt."_

_He glances down to see her bare feet, and then guides her to sit in her chair before he moves behind his desk. Passing into the rooms beyond it, he then comes back with a first aid kit._

_The slit of her dress makes it easy enough for him to push the material aside so he can tend to her feet. It also reveals her long, smooth legs, which he stares at a moment longer than necessary before returning his attention to her feet. Taking a wet cloth, he begins wiping them clean of the muck she'd gotten on them while asking, "What happened?"_

_She relays to him what little she figured out about tonight's plan. As Dewey wraps her feet in a soothing gauze, she sighs, "Thank you."_

"_Of course, darlin'."_

_He moves back to his shelves after that, though he does ask, "So… before your evening was ruined, how was it? Did you have a good time on your date?"_

_Silence meets him, but he figures Dusty is just trying to figure out how to answer him without hurting his feelings too much. When she does finally speak though, he jumps when he hears her voice from right next to him, asking, "Why is this what makes you unhappy?"_

_Turning to look at her, he asks, "What?"_

"_You were unhappy when I left. You were fine when you got me back in here. But as soon as you ask how my night was, you go back to being unhappy. Why? Why does my night with Jacques make you so…"_

_She pauses, and Dewey can see the gears in her head turning. Trying to derail that train, he says, "I'm fine, darlin'. I assure you, what you think you're seeing is…"_

_Her eyes are slightly narrowed when they lift to meet his gaze again. She tilts her head slightly, scrutinizing him for a moment more. Then a tiny grin quirks up the corners of her lips as she asks, "Dewey Denouement… were you jealous?"_

_He tries to scoff at the idea, but then feels the blush coming to his own cheeks when he fails to do that convincingly. Dusty can't help giggling slightly behind her lips. Sighing, Dewey says dismally, "Just… don't be concerned about me, Dusty? I'm sure Jacques is amazing, and I understand that spending time with him will mean less time here. I'm not…"_

"_What are you talking about?"_

_Dewey gives her a look, "You'll be spending less time here."_

"_Why on earth would I do that?"_

"_Because you're dating Jacques Snicket."_

_Her eyes blow wide, but then she crosses her arms and asks, "And when exactly did you decide that, genius?"_

_Dewey tilts his head at her now, but answers, "Um… when you left this evening."_

_Dusty rolls her eyes, "Why? I hadn't even met him yet."_

"_Everyone loves the Snickets."_

_Dusty gives him a look, and then says, "First of all, I'm the weird one in our group, alright. Second of all, you should be ashamed for just assuming I'd ditch this place for some 'guy'. And thirdly, I can't stand that man."_

_Dewey blinks in surprise, "Why?"_

_Dusty shrugs, but then huffs and says, "Every time he opens his mouth, I feel like I'm being talked down to. I mean, the man almost never shuts up, actually. And then he had the nerve, the actual nerve, to try and say he'd keep me safe because I didn't know how to fight! Like he actually knows anything about me!"_

_Dewey slides another book into it's place as she continues ranting about her awful evening with Jacques Snicket. She throws in here and there that she knows he's a very nice fella. Others probably love him, she doesn't deny that. But then she quickly returns to the many things she'd already found about him in one night that she couldn't stand._

_When she finally stops, Dewey is fighting back a grin as he says, "I'm sorry your evening went so terribly, darlin'."_

_Hands wrap around his bicep, but before he can turn, Dusty stands up on her toes. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she whispers in his ear, "No you're not."_

_Turning towards her, gripping her arm in his now free hand to keep her close to him, he asks, "And why wouldn't I be?"_

"_I already told you. You were jealous."_

"_I never admitted to that."_

"_You don't have to. I'm rather smart, you know."_

_Dewey narrows his eyes at her, but she simply grins and adds, "Don't worry, Dewey. You're secret's safe with me."_

_She makes to lean back at that, but Dewey turns to face her fully, gripping both arms now to keep her in place. Narrowed eyes still on her, he grins slightly and asks, "Do you like that I'm jealous?"_

"_Oh no. You do not get to turn this around and try to embarrass me. Not tonight."_

"_And why not?"_

"_Because I've already had a terrible evening. And my feet hurt. So, you have to be nice to me."_

"_I see. But you don't have to be nice to me?"_

"_I'm not being mean."_

"_You're teasing me."_

"_You tease me all the time!"_

_He chuckles at her outburst, staring down into her eyes a moment longer. Reaching up to trace her face with one hand, he cups her neck tenderly, his thumb brushing against the back of her jaw. Watching as her eyes drift shut, Dewey tucks his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. Then he says, "You're right, darlin'. You've had a rough evening. So please, allow me to do what I can to make it better for you now."_

_Dusty's voice is a little breathless when she asks, "Like what?"_

_He doesn't answer her with words. Dusty's eyes open briefly before fluttering shut again as his lips land on her cheek, kissing softly. Then he moves to kiss the back of her jaw on the other side, smiling a bit when he feels her body lean in closer, trying to sink further into his. He kisses down her neck, focusing on the curve for a moment, and then trailing over towards her shoulder._

_When he begins moving back towards her neck again, Dusty's hands finally reach up from where they'd landed on his chest. Cupping his face in her hands, she draws him up to look at her again. Her eyes look slightly dazed, but somehow still sharp as ever as they met his._

_Not sure what she's thinking, he's about to apologize for possibly being too forward, or reading her teasing incorrectly. But before he can, Dusty raises an eyebrow and asks, "Is that all you've got, Denouement? Because if it is, it's kind of weak."_

_Dewey stares at her for a moment, and then grins before asking, "Is that right?"_

"_Yes, it is. I think your isolation is causing you to forget a few things."_

"_Oh, really?"_

"_Seems like it. I'm just saying. I mean, here I am, damsel in distress and all that. And you aren't trying to sweep me off my feet. No magical kiss on the lips that somehow fixes everything. I mean, are you sure you remember how to…"_

_Dewey cuts her off by swiftly leaning down, lips pressing against hers before she can say anymore. Her hands on his face tremble before reaching further to hold the back of his head, keeping him close. Or, trying to. He pulls back entirely too fast for her liking, but he just grins and asks, "Still think I've forgotten a few things?"_

_Dusty blinks up at him, trying to wash away the haze he's put her under. Then she asks breathlessly, "If I say no, are you going to stop kissing me?"_

_Dewey brushes his nose against hers, "The only thing to stop me from returning to that again, will be if you tell me to stop."_

"_Then no, I don't think you've forgotten anything."_

"_In that case."_

_Dusty lets out a short squeal when he scoops her legs out from under her. Carrying her across the room, over to the couch, he lays her down there and kisses her again before she can say anything. Moving to hover over her, slipping between her legs, he breaks away long enough to comment, "This is going to get complicated, Dusty."_

_She sucks in a deep breath, and then grits her teeth before saying, "It already is. I hate this dress."_

_Dewey raises an eyebrow, but then glances down and realizes she's trying to move her legs, but the dress is preventing her from doing so. Lifting up a little, he then rips the rest of the slip up until it reaches her hip, tossing the material further down her leg to the side so it's not bothering her anymore. Then he comes back to her and kisses her cheek, "That's not what I meant."_

_Dusty shrugs, but then cups his face in her hands again. Kissing his cheek, she says, "It's only as complicated as we make it, Dewey."_

"_I'm a ghost, Dusty. I can't take you on dates as Dewey Denouement. I can't be with you in public. I can't…"_

_Dusty kisses him silent, and then says, "I don't care if we can never go out in public, Dewey. I'm a more private individual anyway. I don't care if you can't take me on dates outside of this private sanctuary. And I don't mind that no one else knows you exist."_

"_Dusty, I don't want to keep you from living."_

"_Dewey, I spend most of my time down here with you anyway. What exactly do you think you'll be taking me away from, if we… start dating?"_

_She says the last part like a question, an embarrassed blush rushing up from her neck. Dewey kisses her throat gently. And rather than tease her right now, he says, "I would love nothing more than to date you, Dusty Baudelaire. But are you sure this is what you want?"_

"_I want you. And everything that comes with you. No relationship is simple or easy. There will be things we have to figure out as we go. But I want you, Dewey Denouement."_

_He kisses the back of her jaw, and then leans back to look down at her again. Smiling gently, tracing her face again, he says, "Then you have me. So long as I can have you in return."_

_Dusty smiles, "Good."_

"_Indeed. Now, where were we?"_

_Dusty's response is to hook her now free leg over his hip, pulling his body back down and closer to her again. Dewey draws one hand back to grip her thigh, fingers squeezing as they trail down her skin towards her hips. His nose brushes hers again before he whispers against her lips, "Oh, right. We were right here."_

_She doesn't leave this night. They spend the next hour on his couch, kissing and holding onto each other. Dewey eventually removes his suit jacket and tie, though he'd laughed when Dusty had pouted at the last part. She'd enjoyed her ability to pull him back down by gently tugging at his tie._

_When they finally stop, he leads her through the door behind his desk, which leads into his living quarters. All on this one floor, there's a living room, a kitchen, bathroom, and then his bedroom. That is where they end up going. Still fully-clothed, they slide beneath the covers, Dewey wrapping Dusty up in his arms as they work on falling asleep._

_Dusty's eyes were drifting shut peacefully, when she heard Dewey say softly, "I love you."_

_And as his fingers were running through her hair, he couldn't help smiling when she said back, "Love you too, Dewey."_

* * *

She should've known this would happen. All of it. Some of it pleasing, but the rest… just unbelievably maddening.

Getting into VFD had been easy. The drop down and parachute landing had been flawless. Spidey directed her to the house the children had been sent to stay in. That's where she found the man, their apparent guardian at the moment, sailing off in a self-sustaining balloon.

Coward.

She had just needed to get into the main part of the village. If she could do that, then she could get to the children, and everything would be fine. She could save them, and the Quagmires, take them to her house, and keep them safe.

It was a good plan. It would've worked, if she'd had more time.

And if Jacques Snicket, who is still the most unbelievingly annoying man she's ever met, hadn't tried to face off against Olaf with words and etiquette. Seriously? Jacques prided himself on being 'wordy', able to talk his way out of a situation and able to use enough pretty vocabulary to convince the enemy to change sides and become good again.

Yeah, okay. He hadn't been able to do that with any of the anti-VFD in years. And Dusty doesn't deny that he's a good person. He has a good heart, and he has won many an argument with his clever wit. There was much, she'll admit, that could be accomplished with a good and well-thought-out conversation.

But not with these people. She had said that to him many times when she'd still been in VFD. How could he still be so naïve and stupid?

Regardless, when Dusty did arrive in the Village of Fowl Devotees, she was in time to see the children speeding away in a fire truck. A fire truck being driven by… Dusty swears the baby was driving.

She'd have to look more into that later. She knew these children were resourceful and smart… but a baby smart enough to drive? She was going to have to rethink that a bit.

She would've chased after them. And she still had every intention of going after them after she took care of this. But right now…

She rolls her eyes as she continues chest compressions on Jacques. Bending down to breathe for him again, she mutters, "This still falls under the category of things I will kill you for, if it means I don't reach the children in time to save them."

He wasn't dead. Not yet, anyway. On the brink? For sure, that was true. But not completely dead yet. Olaf was more twisted than any of them realized. He had to have known that Jacques was still alive, clinging to life. And instead of finishing him off immediately, Olaf had left him like this. To die slowly, in immense agony. Dusty doesn't even want to try and figure out how many broken bones he might have. Or about how he's still bleeding from his right shoulder and left side.

And then, as she'd been attempting to do a quick patch job to stop the bleeding, he'd finally stopped breathing on his own… hence her current predicament where the children are driving away, and she's still sitting here behind the town hall building, trying to bring this dumbass back to life.

Well… not a literal dumbass. He was supposed to be one of the smartest in his organization. But you get the idea.

Pressing her com so it cuts back on, she says, "Spidey?"

"Name change again!"

"Spidey, not now. I don't have time."

"What? What's wrong? Are the kids hurt? I can…"

"Spidey, I love where your mind is at. But I don't have the kids yet. I'm with Jacques."

A pause, and then Spidey asks, "The same one you threatened to kill if he kept you from saving the kids? Why?"

"Spidey!"

"Fine! What do you need?"

"The equipment you gave me that works as a defibrillator. I need you to walk me through how to use it again."

"What?! Why?!"

"Jacques is dying, and I need to kickstart his heart. I can stitch him up and leave him with Jackie after that."

"Jackie? Where is…"

"Spidey!"

"Fine, fine! Slides the round ends out of your pockets and into your gloves."

Dusty does as she's told, reaching inside her jacket after that, flipping the switch to operate the mechanisms. Spidey really was brilliant in every way. He'd designed the entire piece of equipment so that it was within the lining of her clothing. Granted, if a bad guy managed to get close enough to her, there was a chance a stray blade could cut through the wiring.

But with Dusty's track record… he'd taken that risk.

Dusty rips open what's left of the ragged shirt Jacques was wearing, places her hands where Spidey tells her, and then presses down hard to activate the pulse. His entire body seems to lurch under her hands, and then she leans down to see if his heart is functioning on it's own again.

Nothing.

Spidey's voice says, "Alright, there's a dial under the flap of your top inside pocket. Twist it clockwise to raise the voltage. Wait twenty seconds, and hit him again."

Dusty repeats this process twice. Then, on her fourth and final attempt, she cranks the voltage to the max, and hits him with all the power these things have. Which, considering how small and compact the whole thing is… well, it's a surprising lot of power.

And Jacques pulls in his first breath that's completely his own. Dusty bends to listen to his heart again. The pulse is faint at first, somehow sounding just as weary as the man before her looked. But it grew steadier by the second.

His low moan of pain, followed by his eyes rolling back into his head again, was expected. Dusty sighs, putting the defibrillator pads away again. Then she pulls out the needle and thread she has for patching up any of her own wounds. Granted, her own are far and few between nowadays. When she'd first arrived in this organization, she'd had a few instances where she'd needed this stuff. But not anymore. Still, she always makes sure she has this on hand. Just because she was good didn't mean she was allowed to get cocky. Being talented with a blade and gun didn't make you invincible.

Sighing when she's finally stopped his continuous bleeding, Dusty says, "Do me a favor. Patch me through to Jackie's phone. She's here, somewhere. Her and Larry. I just need them to get here so they can finish taking care of him."

"On it. And what about the kids?"

"I'm going after them soon as I talk to Jackie. But… figure out where else they might end up going. They're heading northeast up the dirt road."

"In what?"

"A fire truck."

"Fire truck?! Who's driving? Violet?!"

"I'm not even going to attempt to answer that question right now. We'll talk about it later. Can you patch me through?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm working on it. What about the Quagmires?"

"Last I saw, they are all on the fire truck. Unless something tragic happened while I've been sitting here, they should all still be together."

"And if they aren't?"

Dusty pauses at that, and then sighs before saying, "Then I'll have to figure out how to prioritize which set of children needs to be collected and sent home first. I'll worry about that when it comes to it."

"Noted. Next call I make to you, has the potential for you to sound very pissed."

"Why on earth do you assume that?"

"Because I know you loved the Quagmires too, but they weren't family. If you have to go after the two triplets before your own kin, then you'll do it. But you won't be too thrilled about it either."

"Spidey, just get me through to Jackie. Now."

"Dialing."

As the phone rings, Dusty grits her teeth and pleads, "Come on!"

Finally, it picks up and Jackie asks breathlessly, "Who is it?"

"Pixie. Where are you?"

"Um… I'm in a town called VFD. It stands for…"

"I know what it stands for. Good. Where's Larry? He with you?"

A pause, and then Jackie asks, "How do you know I'm with Larry? How did you already know I'd be here? How do you end up knowing half of what you know before I even get a whiff of the information?"

"Jackie, I don't have time right now. I'm at the back of the town hall. You need to get here now."

"Dus… Pixie, that's where…"

Dusty doesn't miss how Jackie quickly corrects to call her Pixie. Which means that Larry is within hearing distance of their conversation. But rather than focus on the slip that almost took place on Jackie's part, Dusty says, "I know it's where Jacques was tossed. I'm here with him. I've stabilized him for now, but he needs actual medical attention. Doctors and shit that I can't give him from here."

Jackie sharp intake of breath, followed by one jerking sob, is all Dusty hears at first. Then her trembling voice asks, "Are you saying? Is Jacques…"

Dusty nods, "He's alive. He's a survivor in the sense that he knows how to cling to life, I'll give him that. I've patched him up as best I can, but it won't be enough to keep him alive if you don't get him to a hospital. I can maybe call for a plane or some kind of medical transport to meet you on your way back to civilization, but that's about it at this point."

"Where are you going?"

"After the children. Come on, Jackie. You know that."

"We can help. I can…"

"Jackie… you know I love you for the offer. But I work alone now."

"But I thought you had help."

"My help is one other person, and he's not even here. He's on his computers, working magic as we speak. Out here, I'm by myself. And I work better that way."

"But…"

"Jackie, you people still think Olaf can be saved. I know he can't. He wants to watch the world burn now, and in order to make sure he doesn't accomplish it at some point, he has to be burned first." At Jackie's gasp, Dusty adds, "Not literally. But you get the idea. I'm not like you. I never have been like you guys, and I never will be. And I'm not letting any of you come with me that might try to shift my focus in a different direction. I know what needs to be done. When I find myself able to, I'm going to do it."

Glancing at Jacques one more time, Dusty stands up and says, "Get Jacques the help he needs Jackie. If you need help with transportation, let me know. I'll have something sent to you. And if you learn anything before I do, then keep me informed."

"Okay. Alright, I'll do that. But…"

Jackie rounds the corner at that, glancing quickly to see that Dusty is still covered from head to toe in her disguise. As soon as she sees that, she grabs Larry by the wrist and says, "Come on!"

Dusty glances up to see both of them sprinting towards her. Backing away from Jacques, she hits the button of the device at her throat to distort her tone, and then says, "He's alive for now."

Jackie nods, bending down to him while Larry just stares at the darkly dressed Pixie before him. Green eyes narrowed at his continued stare, but Larry didn't stop looking. If anything, her apparent annoyance at his gaze only made him look over her more carefully.

It took Dusty a minute longer than she'd care to admit to figure out what he was doing. He was trying to figure out who she was, based on what little of her he could see. He was cataloging everything he could about her, to try and figure it out later when he knew she'd be gone. He wanted to know who she really was, and why Jackie was so willing to trust this dark figure that had apparently been trying to protect their organization and it's people for so long from the shadows.

Averting her eyes to Jackie, she says, "Get him help. If you need assistance, you know how to contact me."

Larry glances down at Jackie, who is nodding while trying to look over Jacques' vitals for herself. Then Jackie turns to look up again, and gasps in surprise. And when Larry turns back to where Pixie had been as well, he has to do a double-take.

There was nowhere for her to have gone. No shadow right now for her to have vanished into. And yet… she was gone. Like a figment of make-believe that most people thought she was, she'd simply vanished from sight.

Bending down next to Jackie, Larry says, "You realize everyone is going to have questions after this. No one is going to simply settle for the fact that you're just a trust friend of Pixie's, or that she simply trusts you to provide her with crucial information. You're going to have to explain."

Jackie just nods, "I fully intend to explain. I always have. Just not yet."

"When, then?"

Jackie sighs, "I honestly don't know. She doesn't want to be explained right now. She may not want to be explained and revealed ever. But…" She pauses in her perusal of Jacques' injuries, turning her eyes up to Larry's. Shaking her head, she says, "She became a shadow to protect us, Larry. Because it was the only thing she could think of to do, that would still allow her to keep us safe in the only way she best could. And I love her all the more, for the sacrifices she made so she could do that for us. But she is not meant to be a shadow."

Moving to Jacques' feet, helping lift him up while Larry gets the head, Jackie adds, "And if I have anything to say about it, she won't have to be a shadow forever. Not to us at least. To the rest of the world, she may want to remain a ghost forever. But with us… there's no need for that."

As they hop into the vehicle, Jackie taking the wheel while Larry stays in the back with Jacques, Larry says, "We already have a ghost of our own, Jackie. He might not like having to share that title with her."

But Larry's eyes burst wide when Jackie says quietly, "Dewey would love nothing more than to share being a ghost with her forever."

* * *

Chapter 4! That took longer than I thought. But here it is!


	6. An Impossible-Honorable Request

Disclaimer: "I do not own 'A Series of Unfortunate Events'. Not the books, not the movie, not the TV series... none of it. I own Dusty, and any original content I make her do or say or add to this story. That is all."

* * *

Chapter 5: An Impossible/Honorable Request

Catching up to the children wasn't the problem. Dusty hadn't expected it to be. The fire truck was bulky, and even if they were going in a straight line down the road, it could only travel so fast with the children not knowing where to go. Plus, her bike was smaller, and had better gas mileage. So no, catching up to them wasn't the issue.

It was only when she got to them that her issues began. Well… issues she hadn't already anticipated.

She supposes she shouldn't have expected any different though. They are, after all, her sister's children. Beatrice was smart and headstrong at times too. And that is what Dusty was faced with when she finally reached them.

The truck came to a stop when she passed and pulled in front of them, slowing her bike until they had no choice but to either stop too, or run her over. And given that she's dressed all in black, only her eyes visible still, she supposes she's lucky they didn't.

They're good kids, with good hearts. They probably wouldn't have run Olaf over either, if he were the one suddenly in front of them. And Dusty is aware that violence isn't always the answer. It should never be looked to first as a solution. Which is why Dusty's old organization, and Dusty herself, were sort of like a last resort when it came to dealing with the bad shit that went on in this world. The goal was always to determine that the person they were after, or dealing with, would really never change. That nothing but a beat down would make them see things differently, or frighten them enough to never try anything evil ever again.

Given that she never looked for violence first, though she was of a more violent nature in what she did for a living… Dusty thinks it says a lot that she wouldn't have even hesitated. She would've run Olaf's ass over, and then backed up over him again, just to make sure it stuck.

When the kids stopped, Dusty swung off of her bike and climbed up on the passenger's side. Klaus and Violet were scooting closer to Sunny, almost looking as though they were about to leap out the other side. Dusty holds up a hand and says gently, "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help you."

Klaus and Violet look at each other, and then Violet says, "You… don't look like a friend. Not like any of the others we've seen."

Dusty doesn't deny that. She knows she doesn't look anything like what a VFD agent would look like anymore. Instead, she says, "I know I don't look it, but I'm a friend. And if you'll trust me, I can take you somewhere safe. Somewhere Count Olaf can't ever touch you again. I won't let him. I promise."

Klaus looks her up and down, and then says, "We've tried trusting people before. It either doesn't go well for us… or ends badly for them. In fact… it almost always ends badly for them."

Dusty nods, but adds, "I'm not like the others. Not entirely, anyway."

Violet leans past her brother to ask, "What's that mean?"

"It means I'm not quite as intellectual as they are. I'm smart… but I prefer to make my mark in a more physical manner. I don't plan to protect you with words or vague promises. If Olaf attempts to follow after us, he will not last long."

Klaus blinks and asks, "Why?"

"Because I will kill him."

Silence meets her, along with wide-eyed shock. But then Sunny, whose gibberish is usually only understood by her siblings, says, "I like her."

Dusty grins behind her mask, "I like you too. I adore you all, and I promise to explain all of that when we have more time. But right now, you have to let me get you out of here. I can drive us to a location where we'll be picked up. From there I can take you…"

But Violet shakes her head, "No. I… I'm sorry… but we've trusted too many strangers before. Too many people we don't know, who then either get hurt… or then end up hurting us. We can't…"

Dusty ponders for a moment, and then asks, "Then let me prove it. How can I convince you I'm a friend?"

The three children pause at that, and then turn to each other to try and come up with a solution. Finally, it's Sunny who says, "Duncan."

Violet smiles, turns back to the masked woman, and says, "Yes! Our friends! Duncan and…"

Dusty nods, "And Isadora. The Quagmires. I'm looking for them as well. And I promise to help you find them, but I need to get you to…"

But Klaus shakes his head, "No… that's what we want. If you're our friend, if you're someone who actually can help us without getting yourself killed stupidly… then first you prove it by finding them."

Dusty blinks, "I can't just leave you here, by yourselves, to go after the Quagmires. I started this looking for all of you. I will find them, I promise, but I'm here for…"

Violet leans closer to the window, coming close enough to look in Dusty's eyes. Her own desperate ones look back as she says, "I… We want to trust you. We want there to be at least one person still in this world that we can trust. But… they are what matter to us. More than anything. And right now, they're in a self-sustaining hot-air balloon home. There's no safe place for them either, but they can't stay up there forever."

Klaus puts a comforting hand on Violet's shoulder, and then says, "We want our friends back. Once and for all. You find them, and we'll consider you a person we can trust. We'll go with you then. But… not before that."

Even to his own ears, he sounded unsure in that last statement. Sunny already liked this new person. Violet wanted Duncan and Isadora back. But if it came down to a vote between the three of them… well, he was wavering. If Dusty pushed hard enough, she could make them come with her. She could make them think they had no other choice.

But that wasn't what she wanted. If she made it seem like they had no other options left, they wouldn't feel safe with her. If anything, they'd only grow wary again. Right now they looked hopeful, but they still needed convincing. They still needed proof that she wasn't going to turn around and become a person they needed to run from.

Sighing in aggravation, Dusty taps the device in her ear, "Spidey?"

The three children look at her in confusion, but Dusty listens when Spidey answers, "Can I change my name now?"

"In a few minutes. Duncan and Isadora are in a self-sustaining hot-air-balloon. How difficult would it be for you to locate that and get me to it?"

"Are we trying to take it down at all, or just get to it and leave it in the air and still get those two triplets off?"

"The second one."

"Then… I mean, I can find it easily enough. Satellite imaging in that area should pick up something like that quickly, because it'll stand out. But getting you to it… trickier. If they're too high up, I can't hail them to start coming down. If they're moving too fast, I can't promise you can drop in from above safely."

"My safety isn't the issue. I can make a drop from the sky work if you can find them. Can you do it?"

"Yeah, yeah, I can find it. But what about the Baudelaire's?"

Dusty looks to the children again, whose eyes have gone wide with wonder and hope. Sighing, she says, "To be continued. I've hit a snag with them… working it out as we speak."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning I'm leaving them with a tracker that I need you to keep tabs on at all times."

"You found them?!"

"Yes."

"Then… wait… what's going on?"

"Spidey… they don't know me. They don't trust me. Yet. I'm working on it. They want the Quagmires."

Silence for a moment, and then Spidey sighs before saying, "You were right before. They are your sister's kids."

Dusty can't help a grin before adding, "Don't I know it. Let me know when you find them."

"Yeah, I'm on it. Be back in five."

Tapping her ear, Dusty looks to the kids again. "I'll find them. Is there anyway I can convince you to come with me now?"

They look at each other again, but Violet still says, "Find them first. Then we'll come. Willingly, and without protest."

Dusty nods to that, and then says, "Don't leave yet."

From her bike, she grabs an extra can of gas she'd taken from the town of VFD. She gives the children as much as she can from that, and then comes back to the window. Sunny's eyes are gleaming as the needle on the gas gauge rises, and then they all look to Dusty.

From her pocket, she pulls out a small round pin. The emblem on it is the same eye shape of her old VFD organization. But it was so small that only actual members, or people who knew what it meant, would be able to tell what it was. Reaching forward, pleased beyond measure when he doesn't pull away, Dusty pins it under the folded down portion of Klaus' sleeve.

Sighing again, not liking this at all, Dusty says, "My friend can track you, so long as you keep that on you at all times. Do not, under any circumstances, lose it. You would not believe how long it's taken me to find you without it."

Klaus nods, but as Dusty drops down, he leans out the window and hurriedly says, "Also… there was a man. In the village with us. He… he might've been trying to help. We don't know… but he… Olaf tried to… he…"

Dusty steps back up and says gently, "Jacques Snicket will be fine. I've seen to that." The children's eyes brighten considerably with that news. Dusty then leans closer again and says, "Drive. Do not stop if you don't have to. Stay away from Count Olaf. Be smart, as I know you have been. Be brave, which I know you can be. Stay alive, and I will find you again. And I promise, I will take you somewhere safe. A place you and your friends won't have to worry anymore."

With that, she steps down and moves her bike out of the way. She watches as they take off back up the road, vanishing from sight.

Only when they're out of hearing range does she say, "Fuck!"

Sighing between gritted teeth, she taps her ear again and says, "Tell me you have them."

Spidey replies, "Working on it. You sound pissed."

"I am. I just let them drive away."

"You didn't let them drive away. They drove away because they don't trust you. With good reason. They trusted this Esme Squalor, and she turned out to be batshit crazy."

Dusty raises an eyebrow, "How do you figure that?"

"She's dating Count Olaf. I feel that's all the evidence I need."

"Ah." Dusty stares after the children a moment more, and then asks, "Should I have dragged them with me?"

"I'm not touching that. Well… except to say that doing so wouldn't have made them feel any safer than they feel right now. And that's what you want, right?"

"Yes."

"Then perhaps this wasn't the best solution… but it wasn't the wrong thing."

Dusty takes a moment to absorb that, and then says, "Thanks Spidey. And since we have a moment, what exactly do you want your name to be?"

"Well, you missed when I wanted to be the Hulk. But at this point, I'm going with Doctor Strange."

Dusty raises an eyebrow, "That's quite a shift."

"That's what happens when you finally let me update basically you're entire house. I went from angry green, to overly intelligent doctor. Impressed?"

"You always impress me, Doc. Now, tell me you've found them."

"Obviously. They're actually only two clicks away from you right now. But I can't get the plane back to you right this second. It had to put down to refuel. But the pilot knows to head back in your direction as soon as possible. I'm thinking I can also get him to drop down some kind of message to the Quagmires so they know you're coming. Anything in particular you think will grab their attention?"

Dusty ponders that for a moment. Then says, "Yeah. Tell them the Baudelaire's are sending their regards. Get ready for extraction."

"You think they'll understand what extraction means?"

Dusty just waits for a second, and then smiles when Doc says, "Right. They're genius children. Of course they know what we're talking about. Alright, I'll get that to them."

"Thanks. And the tracker I put on Klaus?"

"Reading loud and clear. So long as he doesn't lose it, I've got eyes on them. I can pinpoint within a fifty-foot radius of his location."

Blinking, Dusty says, "That's… impressive. Didn't know you could get it that precise."

"I have pumped one-hundred-and-fifty percent into every effort I'm making to get you to everyone you want to keep safe. Though I'm rather unimpressed. I was shooting for a twenty-five-foot radius."

Smiling, Dusty says, "Thanks, Doc. I'm gonna get as far as I can back in the direction of the plane. Just tell me where to stop so it can pick me up."

"Roger."

* * *

_Flashback:_

_As Dusty slammed the door behind her on the way inside, she only let the tension seep out of her shoulders when she heard Dewey say, "Damn. I know Jacques pisses you off constantly… but did you have to take it out on the door, darlin'?"_

_His hands land on her shoulders as she leans back against the door she just slammed. Opening her eyes, meeting his concerned ones, she just shakes her head in dismay. "If I'd known Beatrice dating Lemony would result in my having to spend so much time with his brother, I would've told her outright not to do it. Or I would've taken the time to change my last name. Either would've been better than having to spend so much time around him."_

_Dewey raises an eyebrow, "Firstly, you spend maybe one day a week near him. If that."_

_Dusty simply raises an eyebrow back, "What's your point?"_

_Chuckling, he adds, "And two… change your last name?"_

"_Yes. You know… so it's not Baudelaire. So I don't have to be at the dinner table with Jacques on my right because it's 'family night'. I mean… I love my family. I really do. But geez, come on!"_

_Dewey kisses her forehead gently, and then smirks when she tilts her head up as he pulls away. Giving her a soft peck on the lips, he asks, "Better?"_

"_Not even close."_

_He traces his knuckle over her shoulder, along and up the side of her neck. Kissing her tenderly again, he asks, "And now?"_

"_Now you're just being mean."_

_Brushing his nose against hers, he says, "I can't help it. You're too fun to tease."_

"_I've just spent an entire afternoon being 'talked down to' by a man who has an IQ at least ten points lower than mine. I don't want to be teased."_

_But Dewey just grins again, "Yes, you do. You forget, you can't lie to me."_

_And as he moves away from her lips, trailing one finger over her sensitive skin again while his lips tease the other side of her throat, he feels her pulse pick up the pace. Taking his hands, he moves them firmly down her sides, over her hips, trails his fingers up her tender sides and ribs, and then leaves them to hold her steady on either side of her chest._

_Her hands grip his arms, trying to draw him in that last inch, to eliminate what little space is still between them. That's when his thumbs slide inward, inching towards already hardened nipples. Even through the clothes she's still wearing, Dusty sucks in a sharp breath of air before whimpering when he stops immediately._

_He was beyond patient. At least, in her opinion. She wanted him. All of him. In every possible way he'd let her have him. But slow was smooth, and smooth was fast. Slow is also how all of the best foundations were ever laid, which is what he wanted their relationship to have._

_And… well, yes. He's willing to admit that his slow timeframe can also be seen as a major tease. Maybe even a mean one. But he knew Dusty, and where the rest of the world had damn well better not mess with her… she loved it when he played her like she were his favorite instrument._

_And as she clutches his shoulders tight in her hands, panting in his ear wantonly, he knows she is his favorite instrument. No opera or symphony would ever compare to the way she sounded when his hands were on her._

_He does finally give in. Lifting his lips from her neck, he presses them against hers swiftly and smiles into the kiss when she moans into his mouth. Parting his lips, he swallows up the sound, and then pulls her off the door so he can guide them haphazardly to the couch._

_He's the one that ends up pushed down to sit on it first though. Dusty moves to straddle him swiftly, and then tugs against his tie to lift him towards her and meet her lips again. That offending piece of clothing is then swiftly unknotted and tossed aside, followed by the vest he was wearing over his dress shirt._

_She had half the buttons undone when his hands slid beneath her shirt to land on her bare skin. Sighing at the amazing feeling, she runs one hand up his revealed bare chest, sliding to cup his neck and then the back of his head. Moving her head to rest against the couch beside his, she begs simply, "Please."_

_Dewey groans himself at that, and then tenses when she pushes herself closer, grinding slightly into him. Biting back the curse that wanted to escape his mouth, he slid his hands further up her back and pulled her in until she was hugged tightly against his chest._

_Her sigh of disappointment at their sudden pause has him kissing her shoulder in apology. But he did still want to wait, at least a few more minutes. And this particular reason for having waited so long, more than being a tease and more than building a solid foundation, was the driving force behind why he'd made her wait at all._

_What she didn't know though, was that he was finally ready. Not in the sense that he hadn't wanted to have sex with her from almost the first moment he'd seen her. He had. But in all their time together, he'd still had his own insecurities to work out. Even after she'd declared she wanted him, and everything that came with him in this life, he'd spent the next six months wondering when she would finally tire of not being able to tell anyone he existed. She couldn't introduce him as her boyfriend to her family like Beatrice could introduce Lemony. Any time they were out in public, she had to remember to call him either Frank or Ernest. Whichever he was pretending to be at the time. And though she spent a great deal of time with him in the library, he knew that she was a driving force of nature in the real world as well. She was the greatest source of brute force that VFD had, and she would never be made to sit on the sidelines. And for so long, he'd been waiting for her to get tired of the fact that he wasn't even on the sideline. He, according to the rest of the world, didn't exist._

_But she never tired of him, or his company. She never came back to him with resentment or annoyance in her eyes. Well… none that was directed at him at least. She came in annoyed plenty, usually because of something else Jacques had done that she considered to be stupid. And they'd argued plenty, both having their own opinions on how certain problems and situations were best dealt with. But not once had she stormed out of this room in anger, knowing he wouldn't be able to follow her. Not once had she actually threatened to leave him, as though that was how she'd finally win his agreement._

_She never did anything but love him. All of him. Every single part. And so finally, after a year-and-a-half of making her wait, he was ready._

_When Dusty leans back, assuming they're stopping once again, she simply smiles at him before kissing his forehead. She was a force of nature, and she did push him at times. But never to the point of trying to force him to do something he didn't want. That wasn't how she wanted this to be._

_Dewey stares up into her eyes for a moment, tracing over her face with one hand. He reaches into his pocket with the other, and says, "Before we do anything else today, I need you to answer a question for me."_

_Dusty nods, smiling as she answers, "Of course. What is it?"_

_He continues staring at her for a bit. So long that Dusty frowns and prepares to ask if he's alright. Finally, he lifts his hand from his pocket, presenting her with a little black box. Dusty's eyes widen at the sight of it, and her jaw clenches with the effort to keep quiet so she doesn't interrupt him from whatever he's about to say._

_Sitting up straighter, keeping her in his lap, Dewey reaches down to get ready to flip the box open. "Dustine Baudelaire. When you're not here, all I want to do is be where you are. When you are here, all I want to do is find a way to keep you here forever. And I know that's not possible, given your rambunctious nature."_

_She laughs a little, trying desperately not to cry. Dewey smiles gently at her, "And I know that, even without this, you will always find your way back to me. I know the future is still something we'll have to work at together. I know I want to meet the rest of your family, and be able to spend time with them the way your sister and Lemony can together."_

_Before Dusty can comment, Dewey squeezes in, "And I know you don't care that I can't right now. That's not the point. The point is… you said once that you wanted me. All of me, and everything that came with me." Tracing over her face again, brushing at the tear that's finally managed to fall, he says, "And now I'm telling you. I want you. All of you. With everything that comes with you, and so much more."_

_Holding up the box for her to see inside, he asks, "So… will you marry me, Dustine Baudelaire?"_

_The rose-gold band inside has the eye symbol of VFD on it. But in the center of that eye, is a beautiful and shimmering diamond, surrounded in a circle by tiny little red rubies. Those rubies extend down in a swirling pattern around the rest of the band, almost giving Dusty the impression that it was wrapped in fire itself._

_They had a difference of opinion on how fires should be dealt with at times too. It was, however, actually one of the areas they'd sort of agreed to compromise on. Dewey was of the opinion that, if everyone fought fire with fire, then the whole world would go up in flames. Meanwhile, Dusty was of the opinion that, fighting fire with fire was necessary, and at times, it was the only way to finally snuff it out._

_They'd both conceded that, given different scenarios and situations, both of their opinions were correct. But Dewey knew where Dusty would always stand. He'd seen it from the first moment she'd broken into his library. There wasn't just a spark in her eye, like the rest of VFD seemed to possess. No… no, Dusty was and always would be a bright and burning flame._

_Consequently, one that he wanted to wrap himself up in and never be released from. Hence the design of her ring._

_Dusty puts a hand over her mouth for a moment, beyond words. She nods her head shakily, and then can't help letting out a burst of laughter when Dewey places a swift kiss on her nose before saying, "I want to hear you, darlin'. Will you marry me?"_

_She tries to pretend to glare at him, but it falls immensely short. Even with the horrible way her day had started, or how annoying Jacques had been and apparently always would be. Nothing on the planet could've made her be angry or upset in this moment._

_She finally pulls in a deep breath and says, "Yes. Yes, of course, yes!"_

_Dewey smiles widely at her, even as the rest of her tears finally begin leaking down her cheeks. He slips the ring on her finger swiftly, and then grabs her face in his hands, kissing her as hard and fast as he can. Her hand slides into his hair, the other wrapping around his shoulders. She gives a frustrated little grunt at the fact that his shirt is still on. She still hadn't managed to get that off._

_Then she squeals when Dewey practically races up to his feet. Dusty finds herself perched on the edge of his desk a second later, and then his shirt is completely unbuttoned and on the floor the next. Pretending to pout, she comments, "I wanted to do that."_

_Her eyes then widen at the burning desire she can see in his. It wasn't that she hadn't seen it before. She knew he wanted her… maybe not as much as she desperately wanted him, but he wanted her._

_This time though… this time he wasn't trying to rein it in. Pulling her until she was even closer to the edge of his desk, he kisses her hard before saying, "If it means that much to you, I'll put it all back on later and let you take it all off again. But not right now? Right now, I would really love to show you how thrilled I am that you said 'yes'."_

_Dusty trembles, but still grins up at him. Wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders, she leans up to whisper in his ear, "And how thrilled is that?"_

_He doesn't answer her with words. He simply picks her up, carries her through the door and into his bedroom. And from there, he takes all the sweet time in the world, showing her just how thrilled he is._

_For once, Dusty doesn't mind how patient he enjoys being while going over her body. In fact… she rather loves it._

* * *

Doc, hadn't been kidding. Getting her to this giant blimp in the sky wasn't the problem. It was a gigantic round blob of green in an otherwise blue sky. Finding it was easy.

Getting her to it, however… that was tricky. Going in with a parachute was obviously one of the only options. She could've maybe used a glider, but that risked puncturing one of the balloons that was holding this thing up. And she didn't want to take it down. She simply wanted to get the Quagmires off.

The note sent to the Quagmires had to be a little more in-depth after they settled on the parachute. Dusty could get to them just fine. But the parachute wasn't something she'd be able to divest herself off quick enough to be considered safe. At least, for her anyway. There was a backup parachute if all else failed, but Dusty was really hoping she'd only need that so she could get the Quagmires down with her safely.

Doc handled it though. He sent the two notes. The first was the simple one that Dusty had come up with. Hopefully enough to garner a little bit of trust when she appeared. The second told them to be braced for her to come in hard, and to help her remove the parachute as quickly as possible. Dusty honestly doesn't care how the children plan to help. They can cut it off for all she cares. It just needs to be off before it begins dragging her back out of the glorified hot-air-balloon.

Opening the door so she can prepare to jump, she turns back to the pilot and says, "Thanks, Lou."

The man gives her a thumb's up and shouts back over the wind, "I'll pick you up on the ground in two shakes."

"No hurries. Don't want you crashing."

"Girl, please. I could land on a mountain peak if I felt like it."

Dusty grins at him, and then leaps out the side of the plane. This was one of the things she'd done in training that had been her favorite. Trying to learn any of the techie side of things had bored her. Not because it wasn't important. She knew it was. She just also knew that she was never going to understand it. That's what Doc was for.

But this… the exhilaration of free-falling for a few hundred feet before pulling the chute and floating towards an unforgiving ground? This she considered fun.

Trying to maneuver herself into a swing at the appropriate moment… not so much fun. As the balloons grew closer and closer, she pulled the chute and began swaying herself from side to side, timing it in her head so she could come around on the side and sort of slide onto the standing area of the basket beneath.

Slight problem was that it wasn't a basket. Well… it was. But not a normal basket. The living area of this thing was huge. Enough for six people.

Dusty can easily see why the Baudelaire's had been trying so hard to get up to him beforehand. They may not have stayed forever, but for a while living up in the sky would've been safer than staying on the ground.

As she swings in towards the side, her feet hit the edge of the platform, even as she draws her legs up into her chest as high as she can. Tumbling onto the deck, she curses under her breath at the tangle of string she ends up in. If the children had planned on helping unclip her quickly, that option was now out.

But they hadn't. While Hector was standing to the side, screaming in fright, Isadora and Duncan had run forward and were rapidly cutting through as many strings as they could. Isadora with a pair of weed cutting shears, and Duncan with a sharp pocket knife.

Dusty did get jerked a few feet back towards the edge… but the children freed her before she could tumble completely over the side. Lying her head back on the wooden floor beneath her, Dusty huffs before saying, "Well… that was fun." Then she touches the piece in her ear while standing and says, "Doc, you still there?"

"Always. You make it?"

"I'm insulted that you feel the need to ask."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. And the kids?"

Dusty glances over at the two triplets, who are now staring at her in fascination. Grinning a bit, Dusty says, "Looking at me the same way the Baudelaire's did. First thing you'll need to show them is how these handy-dandy ear pieces work."

"Consider it on the itinerary. How's it look for getting down?"

"That's still up to them. I literally just got here."

"Well, chop-chop! I don't have all day."

Dusty frowns a bit at his rushing her. Doc didn't usually rush her on anything, unless he knew something concerning that she wasn't already aware of. But she didn't want to worry Isadora and Duncan, and so she nods to herself, "We'll get on it as soon as possible. Keep the line open."

"Roger."

Turning back to the children, Dusty squats down in front of them, "Hello Isadora. Duncan. Did you get both of my notes?"

They both nod, and then Isadora asks excitedly, "Who were you talking to? How were you talking to them? Can we…"

Dusty waves a hand at her gently, "I will answer all the questions you have and more. But first I need to get you to safety. Will you let me do that?"

Isadora glances over at Duncan, who says, "You said the Baudelaire's sent you? How… how do you know them?"

Dusty sighs, "I was originally after them, to bring them to safety."

Duncan tilts his head, "Why?"

"I will explain that, I promise. The important thing right now is that they refused to go with me at first. They wanted proof that they could trust me. And I don't blame them. I know my appearance can be a bit off-putting. But they are giving me a chance. You are that chance. They wanted me to come and get you and take you to safety first. Then they will agree to come with me."

Holding her hands out to the Quagmires, she says, "But, as it was with them, the decision to come with me has to be your own. I can't force you to come with me. But I can promise you that if you do, you will be kept safe. Olaf will never be able to touch you again. If he tries, I will stop him."

Isadora asks, "How?"

And as she had said with the Baudelaire's, she answers honestly, "I will kill him."

Their eyes widen, and then they go back to looking at each other again. Communicating silently with each other in front of her. Or trying to. Rising to her feet, Dusty says, "If you want to talk in private, I can go and stand with Hector. But we don't have a great deal of time. Please hurry."

Hector gave a squawk as she moved closer to him, but Dusty pays him no mind. She wasn't listening to the children, but her eyes never left them, or their surroundings. If they wanted to stay, she wouldn't blame them for that either. Hector might not be the bravest or most solid of guardians. But they would be safe up here, out of the reach of any other anti-VFD agents below.

Dusty doesn't know what it was… but as a silent rule, anti-VFD people were never pilots. They were never people that could handle machinery that went into the air. Probably because setting a fire on a plane or helicopter was so much more detrimental than in a car or even a boat. If a plane was in the air, and you set a fire… well, you were screwed. Unless there were actually enough parachutes for all of the people on board, and that only happened with planned-skydiving trips.

Bottom line, anybody that would ever meet this thing in the air, wasn't going to be a person with the intention of taking it down. They'd be fine if they chose to stay. Dusty just wouldn't have her proof for the Baudelaire's that she could be trusted. Unless Isadora was willing to write a letter of her own, explaining that they simply hadn't wanted to go.

Dusty presses a hand to her left temple. She was tired again, and getting a headache. There was too much to think about and consider in all of this. Too many stipulations and risks involved. She was still mad as hell at herself that she'd let the other children go off in that firetruck. And let's not get started on how Jackie knew who she was, and was definitely going to tell everyone else in VFD at some point. She'd thought that over a lot, and knew at this point there wasn't going to be anything she could do to convince Jackie to keep it to herself.

Of course, if Doc is right, and they can bring in people they love and want back into their lives… then maybe it wouldn't be all bad. She just didn't know how she was going deal with Dewey figuring out she wasn't actually dead. He would be furious, and he would have every right to be.

As Isadora and Duncan come back towards her, Dusty lifts her head and determines not to worry about that anymore right now. She'd worry about it when it was relevant, and not before.

The children glance at each other, nodding that they are still in agreement with the decision they've made. Then Isadora turns to her and says, "We'll come with you. But… we have a condition."

Dusty can't help grinning behind her mask. "That's what the Baudelaire's said before they sent me after you. I hope you don't intend to try that. It would make it impossible to please either of you."

Duncan shakes his head, "It's not that. We… we want to see you. To see your face."

Dusty pauses for a moment in surprise. But… it wasn't an unreasonable request. She was dressed all in black, looking like something out of an assassin's story. She looked like a mercenary. Menacing must come to mind when they'd first looked at her.

Which… well, she was supposed to look this way. On normal days, the people who saw her were enemies. She wanted them to be afraid of her.

But not the children. Which made showing them her actual face a bit terrifying. Because that wasn't a pretty sight anymore either. But… if this is what they wanted.

She unclipped the covering from over her face, and then unwrapped her head carefully to reveal her true identity beneath. She expected wide-eyes at the color in her hair, and at the scar on her face and neck. She expected horror, maybe even disgust. All of which she still wouldn't have blamed them for.

But, though their eyes did widen, it wasn't in shock or horror. There was recognition in their eyes. And before Dusty can ask who they think she is, so she can debunk that theory, Duncan asks in disbelief, "Aunt Dusty?"

Blinking in surprise, Dusty just stands there for a moment. Her mouth opens, shuts, opens, and then shuts again. Completely lost for words for a moment, because they knew who she was. They knew her name. How… how did they know her?

Finally, she bends down and asks, "How do you know my name?"

Isadora steps up, considerably less frightened then she had been before. "We've seen pictures of you. Our parents told us all about you. You were one of their best friends, they used to tell us. But… they said you were dead. Why… why would they lie?"

And though still shocked, Dusty quickly informs them, "They didn't lie. They believed I was dead."

Duncan asks, "Why?"

"Because as far as the rest of the world is concerned, Dustine Baudelaire is dead. That's how I became what I am now. You have to die on paper and to the public eye. That's the only way you can be sure to become a ghost."

Isadora looks her over for a moment, and then asks, "But… why would you be a ghost? Weren't you in VFD too? Like our parents?"

"I was, for a time. For a long time, actually. But… at a certain point, their efforts were not enough for me. Not to mention I couldn't exactly help save people from fires anymore. People would look at me and run in the other direction. And I'm not built to sit behind a desk, which was the only other way I could've been helpful in VFD anymore after that."

Sighing, Dusty adds, "Not to mention the skiff that happened and divided VFD in two. There weren't enough VFD to fight them properly, and even fewer who were willing to do what really needed to be done to stop any of them. So… I decided I would do it. I had to do it. They were all going to die, if somebody didn't do something. And I was the only one of us capable of doing it at the time."

Looking to the children, she says, "I promise you I will keep you safe. I promise you that I did all I could to try and keep everyone in VFD safe while I could. But I am but one person at this point, with one other person to aid me. And… I could not protect them from this. And for that, I am so, so sorry."

Dusty didn't realize a tear was falling from her eye, until Duncan reached out to wipe it away for her. Running a hand over her face, Dusty takes a deep breath and asks, "So… are you ready to get out of here?"

They both nod, and move to let Dusty strap them in with the extra equipment at her waist. Then, though Hector about has a heart attack watching them move to stand on the edge, Dusty glances at the children and says, "On three, we jump together."

They grip the vest she's wearing with the other parachute tighter, and then both nod again. Dusty counts down, and is pleased when the children don't hesitate. They were smart enough to know that jumping in time with each other was important.

Isadora screams for a bit on the way down, but Dusty only lets them free fall enough to not interfere with Hector and his home. Then she pops the chute, and the rest of the trip down is spent in a gentle swaying and floating.

Lou is on the ground only a few hundred feet away from them. He'd estimated pretty well where she'd end up. As soon as they touch down, he rolls over with his plane, making sure to stay plenty away so the children would still know that he wasn't trying to run them over.

Dusty picks them up to lift them into the plane, and then shuts the door behind them all. Looking to the cockpit, Dusty asks, "Think you can get me home?"

"Yeah. I'll have to refuel after that to get you anywhere else though."

"I'll put Doc on it right away."

"Alright, Pixie. Tell the kids to strap in."

Dusty works on hooking them in, also tapping her ear to say, "Doc?"

"Here and still waiting. Please tell me you're on the ground."

"Better. We're in the plane."

"Thank God."

"Yeah. So, what do you know that I don't?"

A pause, and then Doc sighs, "How do you always know?"

"You're not very subtle with your fear. What's wrong?"

"Well… the Baudelaire's ended up at a hospital. And I'm pretty sure Olaf ended up finding them. And… well, from the reports I'm reading… I can't be sure because half of this is shit that I know to be bogus. But… I'm pretty sure he ended up trying to kill Violet."

Dusty's hands are on Duncan's belt now, and they freeze when she hears that. Closing her eyes, taking in a deep breath, she asks, "Are they all still alive?"

"Yes. Klaus' tracker is still on, and I was able to find a hidden camera that picked them up leaving the building. And also… the hospital is burning down as we speak."

Dusty curses under her breath, and then moves to take the seat next to Isadora. Strapping herself in, she asks, "Where are they now?"

"And that's kind of the terrifying part. The camera I was using was attached to the hospital, and it's out now. But before it went out, I picked them up again. And…"

When he pauses, Dusty glares at the seat in front of her, "Doc, where are they?"

"I can feel you glaring."

"Then answer me."

"They… the hopped into Olaf's trunk. Wherever he's going… that's where they're going. They… they're with Olaf."

For a moment all is silent. Then Doc sighs, and Duncan and Isadora grow wide-eyed again, when Dusty says through her teeth, "Fuck."

* * *

Chapter 5! Yay!


	7. Avoiding the Lion's Den

Disclaimer: "I do not own 'A Series of Unfortunate Events'. Not the books, not the movie, not the TV series... none of it. I own Dusty, and any original content I make her do or say or add to this story. That is all."

* * *

Chapter 6: Avoiding the Lion's Den

The hospital was in ruins by the time she got there. Dusty hadn't even bothered going inside. Doc had already informed her that someone else from VFD had gone in while it had still been burning and had come back out with what looked like a sugar bowl from an expensive tea set.

Doc hadn't had a clue why someone would risk their lives going inside a burning building to get a jar of sugar… but Dusty did. That accursed sugar bowl had been the pivoting point for a great deal of all the sadness that ended up befalling everyone. Lemony going into hiding. Beatrice having to try and forget about him, marrying another man whom she did love dearly, but not nearly as much as Lemony.

It was also the reason Dewey had never been properly introduced to her sister or the rest of her family before they'd passed away. It was the reason Esme Squalor was so bitter herself, and a member of anti-VFD. Though in Dusty's opinion, she would've switched sides eventually anyway. The woman was full of pettiness and greed even before her sugar bowl had been 'stolen'. It was the night Olaf had finally tipped to the other side too, his father dying at Bee's hand. Oh… how she wishes now she'd never purchased those poisoned darts for her sister as a present.

That damn sugar bowl was the reason she had the scar on her face and neck. It was the reason she'd no longer been able to help with literal fires. It was the reason VFD shrank into almost non-existence and despair… until she'd disappeared herself in order to try and save them.

Fat lot of good it did. Sure, she bought them twenty years. But now her sister was still dead, two others were killed before she could even get close to the Baudelaire's, and who knew what else was going to happen to the children before she could get them to safety. God! Sometimes she wishes VFD had never even been created in the first place. Or at the very least, that whoever had founded it had worked a little harder to pick the proper candidates, rather than just assume having a 'gleam in their eye' meant they were perfect for the club. Geez!

By the time Dusty had gotten to her house with Isadora and Duncan, Doc had managed to capture several images of Olaf's car via satellite imagery. They hadn't come to a stop yet, but he knew which way they were going. Plus, Klaus still had his tracker on, so it was easy to know where to try and snag the next picture for more accurate information.

Lou still had to refuel the plane at that point, and with nothing better to do and refusing to simply sit and wait… Dusty showed the children the rest of her house. It was only one story above the ground. A quaint and simple house, nothing like anyone else in their own organization had wanted or purchased with their money. From the outside, it looked built for only one, possibly two people who were married to live. A bedroom, kitchen, living room, bathroom… all the essentials were here, but nothing more.

To a more trained eye, the place also looked like it was unlived in. Because it wasn't lived in, not really. Dusty came up here at times to make sure nothing had been touched or moved without her knowledge. But other than that, the entire place was just a front. An illusion of quant and simple, hiding the grandeur beneath.

That's where all of Dusty's money in this place was spent. The stairwell in the house, which to any intelligent or knowing individual made no sense in this one-story house, had a latch hidden in the post of the bottom stair. Opening that latch only required you to know where it was, which Dusty showed the children, and when it popped open, a hand-print scanner was revealed.

Dusty set up the children's hands to be recognized, after which the stairwell rose up on a hinge, revealing the true stairs the led down into the lower levels beneath.

Three floors of depth existed beneath the unlived in house. The first was where Dusty actually lived, but she'd built it with the intention of being able to house more if necessary. At the time, she'd been thinking of Beatrice, and anyone else that her sister might try to drag with her. So the long hallway you first got to on this floor led you first to the kitchen, living area, dining hall, workout room, rec room, and then bedrooms as far back as a person could see. Isadora estimated quickly that there were probably, at the very least, sixteen extra rooms on this massive level alone, all equipped with furniture, bedding, lamps, and even a bible at each nightstand. It was almost set up like a hotel.

Dusty blames Dewey's influence on that part. He would forever be influencing everything she did, even if they were apart.

Six bathrooms were also on this level, which Isadora and Duncan take advantage of for a moment before following 'Aunt Dusty' to the next floor down. And that floor, was full of books.

Well… not full. There was obviously room for more. This particular floor wasn't quite as long as the first one, which both Duncan and Isadora thought was weird. But Dusty assured them that the structure above was sound as ever, even if they couldn't see how else it was supported. She didn't feel like going into detail about the beams and concrete that went into stabilizing it. And since they seemed to trust her answer, she didn't.

In any case, this entire floor was broken into two parts. The first that you saw when you got down the stairs, was the library portion. Shelves and shelves lined the walls on that side and filled up the space in the middle. And while there were tons of books already here, there was still room for hundreds… maybe thousands more. The other half of the room, which extended past behind the stairs, was full of tables, couches, recliners, rockers, lamps… and even a tea and coffee making stand. There was also a fireplace, which blew Duncan's mind, since they were under ground.

Dusty did hate to tell him, but it wasn't a 'real' fire place. It was a gas powered one. But that simply seemed to fascinate him even more. The fireplace was built to look real, huge in the middle of that far wall. The coffee and tea stand stood to the right of it, and on the other wall were shelves that housed pictures of the important people Dusty never wanted to forget. All of VFD, her parents… Dewey.

She lets them look around in fascination for a moment, and then calls them to come see the final level, promising they could return when they were finished if they wanted. Which, upon reaching the final level… she couldn't help grinning when it didn't look like they'd want to. They'd go back eventually, she knew that. But…

The lower level was only slightly wider built than the second. One side was for training. Punching bags, books on fighting techniques, a giant matt, a salmon ladder, a rock climbing wall, bows and arrows, knives, swords, even a few guns… if it was something you wanted to learn to do or use, this is where Dusty came to practice and learn it.

The other side of the room, that's where Doc was. Dusty had known he'd use the space and make it his own one day. Prior to his arrival though, she'd had a basic office type of set up for him to use whenever he came over. She knew it wasn't his favorite set up. He liked his better back at their old headquarters. He'd basically had a gigantic room devoted to all of the processing stations, computers, and any other equipment he might need. Dusty doesn't know all their names. The tech side of things wasn't her specialty.

She did know, however, that the set up he had now was even more advanced than what she'd seen back at headquarters. Gigantic processing stations lined one wall off to the side. She supposes he'd paid someone a hell of a lot of money to put the wires under the floor so it wouldn't create a mess. Then he had an entire wall of monitors before him that he was looking at. Dusty has no idea how he keeps track of which one he's using or needs. She never knows how he does even a fraction of what he does. She just knows he's the best, so she doesn't question him about it. Nor does she question how much of her money he spent putting this set up together. She doesn't care. He got what he needed, and nothing more, and that's all that matters to her.

Doc himself, was sitting at a large oak desk in front of his monitors. His glasses were currently at the end of his incredibly pale nose, but as his head snapped back up to look at a screen, he shoved them back up onto his face. Blue eyes flit back and forth as they tracked something, and then he snapped his head back down to one of the three smaller monitors that he had on his desk within arm's reach of him.

She didn't understand why he couldn't get himself a comfortable chair though. He was still sitting in one of those rolling, office-type chairs. Which did nothing to hide the rest of him. He was still a scrawny person, though Dusty had forced him to implement a running regimen so he would develop at least some muscle. Plus, if someone ever did manage to find him and attack him, he needed to be able to run away and hide long enough for her to come find him.

He was wearing a deep green shirt that said on the back, "SMASH!" He was in a hulk mood again. And before she even reached his side, he said, "I'm changing my name to Hulk by the way. I'm back in that kind of mood."

Dusty nods, "Good thing or back thing?"

"Good thing, I promise. How are the kids?"

Dusty glances back at Isadora and Duncan, whose mouths are still agape at all of this. Then she shrugs, "Ask them yourself?"

At that, Doc… or Hulk now, turns sharply in his chair to look at them. Smiling wide, a mouth full of shockingly white teeth greeting them, he reaches forward to shake their hands vigorously, "So glad to finally meet and see you guys! Oh, what a day! Such a success! Yes!"

Isadora and Duncan look over at Dusty, who says, "Yes, he's always this easily excited around new people. You get used to it by the time he finally loosens up."

Hulk turns to her and makes a face, but she simply grins. Then she adds in for the children, "His real name is Samson. He prefers Sam, if you're going to call him that. And if you're ever talking to him over a phone or comm… well, call him whatever he's decided to be called at that point. Which, as of right now, is Hulk."

Sam nods, and then spins back around when Duncan asks, "But… why can't we just call you Sam?"

Eyes wide, he answers, "Because you never know who might end up listening in! Government agencies, spies from foreign nations, other hackers who are dying to get their hands on me and my work! Why if…"

Dusty puts a hand over his mouth before he can continue, and then says to Duncan, "Because he's quirky. And please, don't get him started unless you're willing to listen to his conspiracy theories for a while. They can last… well, forever if you let him."

Sam makes an insulted sound behind the hand over his mouth, but then rolls his eyes good naturedly. Glancing at his computer, he nods and says, "Lou's ready and waiting. I'll keep you updated with their position as I get it."

"Good. Nice job with the place, by the way."

"Too much?"

"It suits you perfectly. Listen, take a minute, and help the kids settle in. Take them to town for anything they might need, or have it expedite-shipped here so they get it as soon as possible. And if they have any other questions…"

She ponders for a moment if there's anything they shouldn't know… and then decides that there's nothing she needs to keep from them. They'd been through a lot. They deserved to have all the answers they wanted, and so much more. Nodding, she says, "Tell them whatever they want to know."

Sam nods, and then Dusty bends down before the children. Removing her mask again so they can see her face, she smiles gently and says, "I have to go and find Sunny, Klaus, and Violet. I will try to return with them as fast as I can. If you need to reach me for any reason before then, Sam will hook you guys up with phones so you can call me whenever you need."

Both nod, and then Dusty's eyes blow wide when Isadora lunges at her and wraps her up in a tight hug. Holding the young girl tightly in return, sighing at the warm feeling she'd done without for quite some time, she promises, "You will be safe here. I promise."

Duncan nods, and then Dusty stands back up. Recovering her face, she turns to Sam and says, "Hulk… get me to them."

"Fast as humanly possible."

"Excellent."

And Dusty can't help it. As she'd been running up the stairs, she'd laughed to herself when Duncan immediately began peppering Sam with questions like, "What is this? How are you doing that? What's this code mean? How…"

Dusty had to pause for a moment when Sam burst out with, "One thing at a time kid, geez!" Oh, but he was excited to have someone to tell about all his computer savvy. She could hear it in his voice.

She can still hear it in his voice, even now as she sits in the plane, soaring over open space again, telling her, "They're still driving. Like… where the hell is he going with them?"

Dusty shrugs, but then her phone signals that she has another call. From Jacqueline. Sighing, she says, "Jackie's on the line."

"You still pissed at her?"

"No. But she probably still thinks I am."

"Yeah, well… you didn't have time to be patient. It was seriously stupid to have left any of the children at the prep school at all. They deserve to be ashamed."

"Yeah, yeah. Just listen in, alright."

"Roger."

As Dusty switches lines, just as a precaution, she hits the button to alter her voice, and then asks, "Jacqueline?"

"I'm alone."

Hitting the device again, Dusty asks gently, "How are you doing, Jackie?"

"I've been better. Poe's been pretty tight-lipped about everything happening to the Baudelaire's. I'm sorry I haven't been able to give you anything. I've been trying, I swear, I just…"

Dusty cuts her off gently with, "Jackie… I know. And, I'm sorry I was so short with you before. I just…"

"I know. It's Bee's kids. I get it."

"Good. So, why are you calling now?"

"Kit called me. Kit Snicket."

Dusty raises an eyebrow, "Hmm… that is interesting. Isn't she supposed to be serving as that… mind reader or whatever?"

"Madame Lulu. Yes. But she had to leave her post to retrieve the sugar bowl. So someone else is in her place right now."

Dusty nods, "So that's who Hulk saw go in there?"

"Hulk saw… what?"

"Never mind. What does Kit have to say about the Baudelaire's?"

"The woman who took her place was traveling with Jacques before he… well, before Olaf tried to kill him. He's… he's alive, by the way. Still recovering… but he's expected to pull through with flying colors."

Dusty gives a small grunt of approval, and at Jackie's sigh, Dusty immediately says, "Don't lecture me on him. He has always been my least favorite of the Snickets. Not to mention the fact that he's the real reason the children were left at the prep school in the first place. Stupid as hell. I don't want to hear it. Tell me about the Baudelaire's."

Jackie takes a pause, and then says, "Alright. But… you should know that… well, Larry suspects. He strongly suspects that it's you beneath the mask of Pixie."

Dusty pinches the bridge of her nose, "And how, exactly, did he deduce that?"

"I… may have said something that was a much bigger hint than I first realized. I forgot that, since Larry is one of the few who already knew about Dewey's existence, he would also obviously have known that you were once his fiancé. Consequently, still the only woman Dewey will ever love."

"Jackie, not now…"

"But…"

"I do not have the children yet. When I have the children, and they are safe, we can discuss… something. I don't know what I'll be able to do yet, but we'll discuss something. But until then, do not talk to me about reentering the world of the living. Don't talk to me about _him_. For the last time, tell me about the Baudelaire's."

Jackie pauses again, but then says, "The woman who was with Jacques says that he told the children in the Vile Village to locate Madame Lulu, and that she'd have answers for them. He obviously meant Kit, but she's gone right now, and the woman… her name's Olivia, and she was the librarian at Prufrock. She's in Kit's place and she told me that the children would probably head towards her. She also said that, if I could, I should try to stop them."

Dusty blinks at that. "Why?"

"Because apparently she noticed that Olaf saw the same flier that Jacques showed the children. And he's seen the recording that Jacques put in as his last entry before he went looking for the Baudelaire's. If Olaf has questions, he'll probably head to Madame Lulu as well. And if the children…"

Dusty stops listening for a moment, pinching the bridge of her nose. So that's why the kids were in Olaf's trunk. Somehow, they'd figured out he was trying to get to the same place they were.

Brave kids. Reckless, and possibly a little crazy and idiotic at this point. But… still, brave kids.

"Dusty? Are you still there?"

Dusty sighs, "Yeah."

"Well… I can't reach the children, obviously. But it's a safe bet that they're probably heading in that direction. And… you said call you with anything I might find, so…"

Dusty nods, adding gently, "You did good, Jackie. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Can… Will you please promise to call me and let me know when you've found them? And… when we'll have time to talk?"

Dusty nods again, "I promise you that, Jackie."

Besides, it wasn't like she really had a choice anyway. Before Larry had suspected, there had still been the slightest bit of hope that she could convince Jackie to keep her identity a secret, when they finally had a chance to discuss things. But with Larry thinking he knew it was her… yeah, not so much. And in any case, Sam was still pushing for the possibility that they didn't have to hide from the people they loved anymore. Everyone from VFD that was still alive could be brought in, and be kept safe, and know all that she'd done for them these past twenty years.

And it looked like that was going to have to be the way it was. Because if Larry knew who she was beneath the mask… well, then there was no way it wasn't going to eventually get back to Dewey.

Speaking of which, Dusty adds, "Do me a favor? You can go ahead and confirm to Larry that it's me. If he's suspicious, he's not going to let it go, and the longer you don't answer him, the surer he'll be that he's right. So, you can go ahead and tell him. But… tell him he can't tell Dewey. Not yet."

"Dusty… Dewey loves you."

"And I died and broke his heart. Figuring out I'm still alive, and then I left him to do _this?_ Figuring out I abandoned him and didn't let him know, him of all people, that I wasn't actually dead." Dusty swallows past the lump in her throat, "I need time. Time to figure out how… how to even begin to approach that. So just… just tell Larry that. Tell him it's me, and that I need time."

There's a long pause on the other end of the line. And then Jackie says, "Alright, Dusty. I'll make sure he knows that. But… just so you know… Dewey will forgive you. He might be mad. I was a little mad at first. But… he will forgive you, Dusty. You mean the world to him, even if he doesn't think you're alive anymore. So just… you know… let him be mad but know that he'll forgive you."

Dusty doesn't answer her for a moment. A tear makes its' way down her face as she realizes just how terrified she is that he won't. Jackie was sure he would. Larry would probably agree with her. Larry and Jackie agreed on a lot of things, and she's willing to admit that, more often than not, they were correct.

Still didn't change the fact that Dusty wasn't sure he would. I mean… she'd left him. Left him in his library, unknown to so many people. He'd probably only had his brothers to help him grieve her loss. Larry possibly could've helped, but Jackie and so many others hadn't been brought in on his existence until later, when his brothers had decided that he definitely needed some form of interaction with people other than just them and Larry. Dusty had filled up a huge void in Dewey's life that they hadn't even known existed. Maybe Dewey himself hadn't known it existed at first. But after she was gone… all of them could feel it. Every single one of them.

Taking a breath, Dusty says, "I'll bear that in mind. Thank you for the information. I'll keep you posted."

"Please be careful, Dusty."

"As careful as I can be."

Hanging up, she moves towards the front of the plane as Hulk asks, "Where is Madame Lulu?"

Dusty gives a set of coordinates to Lou, to which he gives a thumbs up and adjusts their course slightly. Then Dusty returns to her seat and says, "Caligari Carnival. A circus situated pretty much in the middle of nowhere. All sorts of information gets pushed to Madame Lulu before it heads on down stream and eventually gets to Dewey. That's where the kids are going."

Hulk sighs, "Right. Any chance there are cameras there?"

"VFD has their cameras set up at all of their locations. Think you can hack them?"

"I'm insulted that you feel the need to ask. And what with my new helper and all, we'll have this done, lickity-split."

Dusty raises an eyebrow, "New helper?"

"Oh yeah! Duncan's full of questions. Got a keen mind for this stuff too. I'm adopting him as my new protégé. By the time he's my age, he'll be able to replace me."

Dusty grins, and then says, "I'd expect nothing less from you or him. Let me know what you find when you find it. In the meantime, that's where I'm headed."

"On it."

* * *

Finding Klaus, Sunny, and Violet once getting there wasn't the problem. She knew who they were almost right away. Their disguises were good, but not that good.

Which means that if Olaf hadn't already figured out who they were, it wouldn't take him long. Klaus and Violet on their own might've been able to hide for a little while. But Sunny… just a little baby who was exceptional at biting things… her character wasn't much of a disguise. She was just dirty, basically. It wouldn't be enough for long. It might not be enough now.

Anyways, finding them wasn't the problem. Nor was sneaking into this place. VFD was entirely too old fashioned. They needed upgrades. Massive upgrades. Security was little to zero around here. She probably could've walked in through the front entrance and still gone unnoticed.

She didn't risk that, but she probably could've.

The problem she now faced. The real issue she had at this point… was that the children refused to leave Olivia behind.

She'd found Sunny first. In the trailer with all the other 'freaks'. Really, nothing freaky about them. One guy had a hunch, one girl was as bendy and twisty as a pretzel, and the other guy… well, Dusty has yet to really figure out why everyone is so freaked out by him. In any case, Dusty spotted Sunny on a pile of old rags on the floor. Treated as nothing more than a beastly little child. Which is what she was supposed to be pretending to be… but still.

As soon as Sunny saw her, a toothy grin erupted on her face. Dusty smiled behind her mask, and then pointed to where Klaus and Violet were sleeping. Sunny nodded, and then Dusty went around the back of the trailer to wait for them.

When they arrived outside, the first thing out of their mouths was "Duncan" and "Isadora".

Klaus and Violet looked at each other, blushing a tiny bit. Dusty grinned again, but didn't pick at their crushes. Instead, she simply nodded, "I found them. They're safe."

Klaus' smile beams onto his face, while Violet nearly starts crying in relief as she asks, "Where? How?"

Dusty bends down in front of them, "How… is very carefully. As for where, they are at my house. They will be kept safe there, I assure you."

Klaus frowns slightly, "Are they alone?"

"No, Klaus. My friend is with them."

Tilting her head, Violet asks, "What friend?"

Dusty sighs, "The one I spoke to in my ear. The one who has been keeping track of you through the chip I gave you. Thank you for not losing that, by the way."

Klaus lifts his wrist to show where it still should be. Dusty nods, and then says, "Now I'm here for you, as agreed. Let me take you home. You can be with your friends again, and you will be safe. Olaf will never be able to touch you."

Violet asks, "Because you'll kill him?"

"If it comes to that, yes."

"And what determines if it comes to that?"

"If he comes after you while I'm here to stop him."

Violet clearly expected more, but Dusty didn't have more. It wasn't a complicated process in her mind. Olaf was already after them. Therefore, she was well within her rights to kill him already. That being said, if Klaus, Sunny, and Violet left with her now, and she could keep them safe in her home, then all Olaf would need to do was simply leave all of them alone.

But she could see it on their faces. They weren't ready to leave yet. Again!

Sighing, dropping her head hopelessly, Dusty asks, "What now?"

Sunny crawls over to her, and then says, "Olivia."

Frowning, Dusty says, "They think she's Madame Lulu. She's not in danger."

Violet shakes her head, "But if Olaf finds out."

"He won't find out."

"You don't know that. If we end up gone in the morning, he'll wonder why. He'll expect her to be able to explain, because she's supposed to be in charge. And if she can't answer him… if she has no idea where we are…"

Dusty wanted to argue further. Olivia was a nice person, she was sure. But Olivia wasn't her concern. The children were.

But she can see it in their eyes, as clearly as she'd seen it the first time. On this, they weren't going to budge. Morning was nearly upon them. The show would start soon after that, hopefully. In the midst of everything going on around them, Dusty could probably find a moment to pull Olivia aside, explain some things to her, and then get all four of them out of here together. Better yet, if Olivia was still awake now, then they could all escape in the cover of darkness and be in the air flying home before Olaf and any of his henchmen could even begin to fathom where half of the show had gone to.

She had it half planned out before she realized she was allowing herself to basically be ordered around by children. Sighing again, she shakes her head and mutters, "You are all the spitting image of your mother. Right down to how incredibly stubborn you can be."

But they can all see from the slight rise of her cheeks, the slight closing of her eyes, that she's smiling when she says it. All of them smile in return, proud to be compared to Beatrice in this way. Then Dusty says, "If you can, find your friend. Tell her she can trust me, and that when I say we need to leave this time, all of you need to follow. Immediately. Do you understand?"

To this, they nod in agreement, and as Dusty stands again, Klaus asks, "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to look for Olivia too. With all four of us looking, one of us is bound to be able to catch her and fill her in on the plan."

She turns to walk away, but Violet asks, "Who… who are you?"

Dusty turns back to the children, realizing she'd never actually told them before. Coming back, she bends down and decides that if Isadora and Duncan know who she is from her face… maybe these three do as well. With that in mind, she unwraps her head for them to see.

Her relief at their widening eyes, the recognition she sees there, is overwhelming. Drawing in a shaky breath, she says, "I am someone who will never want for anything but good things to happen to you. Do you know me?"

Klaus nods, "Aunt Dusty. But… mother said…"

Dusty nods, "Your mother… she lied to protect you. As she lied to everyone. She was the only living soul who knew that I wasn't actually dead. But to everyone else, I had to be."

Violet blinks, "But… why?"

"Because that is how I work now. Your mother, and the rest of VFD, tried to work in the light of day. That is where they all believed the biggest and greatest changes could be made. But I do not work my best in the light. I travel in the shadows, thwarting the evil that lives and hides there. And the best way to fight from the shadows… is to become a shadow."

Sunny reaches out to touch her face, the side without the scar for now. Then she says, "We'll go with you. But Olivia."

Dusty nods with a sigh, wiping at the stray tear that falls to her cheek. Shaking her head, smile still in place, she says, "Yes, Olivia. You want Olivia. And I will do all I can to get her and the rest of you out of here. Just… please, stop fighting me on these things. If I say run, then run. If I say jump, then jump. And once we get home, I will explain everything I can to you, and so much more."

The children look at each other, and then all nod in agreement. They would go with her. Finally.

She should've just taken her mask off to begin with. Could've sped things along quite nicely. Geez!

Dusty sighs in relief, and then can't help a small laugh when Violet tacks on, "But there is something else we need to worry about now."

Holding her hands out in a welcoming gesture, Dusty says, "I see. And what's that?"

Klaus runs an agitated hand through his hair, apparently still trying to wrap his head around whatever the issue was. "Jacques had a message delivered to the hospital we were at after you first saw us. There was a message in it."

Dusty nods, "I heard something about that. And?"

Klaus and Violet look at each other, and then nod again. Back to Dusty, Violet says, "He said that it was possible someone survived the fire."

Dusty's face freezes in place for a moment. Then a frown works its' way over her mouth. Standing up straight, she tries to think if there was anything she'd missed at the Baudelaire house. But she'd looked through everything. Every passage, every doorway, and every nook and cranny.

She knows it's not what they want to hear, but she tells them honestly, "It can't be your parents."

They lean back in surprise, and Sunny's usually defiant and adorable face falls in disappointment before she says, "But…"

Bending back down to their level, Dusty sighs. "I… I wish it could be true, kids. Believe me, I want that more than anything. Your mother, my sister, was one of my truest friends in the entire world. She was the only one I was allowed to keep before entering the life I'm in now. Losing her… I've only ever known such heartbreak one other time. And I wish we could hope for the possibility that she's not actually gone. But…"

She runs a hand over her own hair, "I checked everything at your house, guys. All the secret passages were secured. All the doors, what was left of them, indicate they were unopened. And there were enough bone fragments… my guy told me there were too many pieces still left to only belong to one person. There were only five people that could've been in the house at all, and you three would've been the others. So… I'm sorry. But your parents are dead."

Their faces fall for a moment as they take that in. Then Violet wipes at a tear on her cheek before asking, "Then… what did Jacques mean in the message? Who else could he have been talking about?"

Dusty shrugs for a moment, trying to consider who else he might've been talking about. Then she jumps when Hulk says in her ear, "Quigley."

"Quigley?"

The children's heads snap up, and Violet's eyes grow wide in fascination as Dusty touches her ear and asks, "What are you talking about?"

And then Duncan's voice comes over the line, "Hulk's been showing me all kinds of stuff. And I asked him to go through records from our house fire. Our parents are probably dead too… but S… I mean, Hulk says that there didn't seem to be any bones the size of a child's reported on the property. So… Quigley might still be alive. I mean, I think he might be."

Dusty ponders that a moment, and then nods, "Alright. So we know what we're doing when we get back."

Hulk nods, "Way ahead of you. Duncan's a good comparison for his brother, so I've scanned his features into my system to try and see if I can't find a snapshot or image somewhere that resembles it. Hopefully I'll get a match before Olaf figures out it might be one of the triplets."

Dusty nods, "Keep me posted. And call Lou and tell him to be ready to take off at first light."

"Roger."

Looking to the children again, Dusty blinks when she finds Violet right in front of her face. Fascination still bright in the young inventor's eyes, she asks, "What is that?"

Dusty just grins, "I'll let 'Hulk' tell you all about it and more, but only after we're out of this place. Agreed?"

They all nod, and then Dusty stands up. Rewrapping her head, hiding all but her eyes again, she says, "Find Olivia. If you can't, then at least stay together, all of you. I will get you all out of here. I promise."

And as she disappears back into the shadows so she can get to work, she determines that she will keep that promise.

* * *

Of course, it would've been easier if Olivia weren't just as skeptical as the children had been. She had her reasons, of course. In fact, Olivia hadn't even believed her when Dusty claimed that Jacques was still alive.

It had taken a phone call to Jackie to convince Olivia that Dusty was telling the truth about Jacques. But then there was the fact that Dusty was not about to tell Olivia who she really was. Allowing the children to see her was one thing. Olivia… yeah, no. That had taken almost an hour on the phone with Jackie, who assured Olivia repeatedly that even though 'Pixie' was as mysterious a figure as there ever could be, she was one that they could trust with everything.

It was comforting when Olivia finally looked at her with hope in her eyes. And it's honestly quite relieving to see how protective Olivia is of the children. If nothing else, she'd at least given the children a real sense of comfort and friendship that they'd been without for quite some time. But that didn't change the fact that now, since it had taken so long to convince her, daylight was nearly upon them.

Their odds of escaping completely unseen and unmissed vanished into thin air when Olivia went out of the tent first, and then immediately backed herself back in so Dusty wouldn't step out. Olaf was up and about, walking around with his henchmen, trying to prepare everything for what he had decided was going to be the most magnificent spectacle this carnival had ever seen.

Dusty's glad she doesn't need to explain to Olivia that Olaf's idea of magnificent meant it certainly wasn't going to be good for them. It is a pain in the ass though that Olivia thinks she can't leave since Olaf will want her to accompany him around today. You know, just in case another one of her 'visions' should come to pass.

Dusty doesn't have time to sugarcoat the fact that Olivia didn't need to worry about Olaf coming after them. Disappearing without a trace would be better, but if Olaf tried to come after them, Dusty would handle it in her own way. Olivia expresses fear anyway that if Olaf should grow suspicious, he'd follow them somehow not let them take off. Stand in front of the plane or something.

When none of her concerns appeared to worry Dusty in the slightest, Olivia asks, "Aren't you afraid he'll try to force your hand?"

"Into what?"

"Into trying to kill him. I mean… that's…"

Dusty's eyes had simply narrowed, "If he's stupid enough to stand in front of the plane, he deserves to be run over. If he follows and tries to harm the children in the process, I will shoot him with an arrow. If he touches one of them again where I can see it, he will lose both his hands." She leans closer, watching Olivia's eyes widen when she can see how just how serious Dusty is. "If he tempts me to kill him, then he dies. And it will be his own fault."

Olivia blinks after a moment, her mouth falling slightly open. "You… you'd kill him?"

"It's not any worse than what he'd do to us. It's actually much more merciful than anything he's done to anyone else in his miserable life." Dusty grips Olivia's arm, not harshly, but firmly all the same. "People are beginning to roll into this place, Olivia. Stupid people, who won't care that Olaf's idea of a good show is likely going to end with someone dying. I will not let the children be there when it happens. I let them get away from me once. I literally allowed them to drive away from me. It won't happen again."

Releasing her, Dusty adds, "They don't want to leave without you, and I don't blame them for that. I've never been Jacques' biggest fan, and how you can put up with him is a mystery to me. But I think I like you. You've got a good head on your shoulders. Maybe you can round him out when he comes back to the land of the conscious." She leans closer again, and her voice is both hard and pleading at the same time when she continues. "But I will leave you here, if you don't come with me now. I have to get them out of here. Today. This very minute. The only question now, is are you coming with us?"

Olivia stares at her for a brief moment of time. Dusty honestly appreciates that she keeps it brief. Jacques might've let it go on, allowing the silence to fill up the space between them. But Olivia was, in Dusty's opinion, smarter than him. She understood better that not all problems could be solved with a conversation. She understood that, smart as she might be, there was much she still needed to learn.

One thing she thinks she will need to learn, possibly from this person before her, is self-control. Olivia could see in the tightening of her fists when she'd mentioned it, that Dusty wasn't just willing to kill Olaf if he got close enough to the children. She wanted to kill him. Now. But she didn't want to do it, at least at this point, without proper cause.

Dusty did believe that sometimes fire had to be fought with fire. But the placement of the opposing blazes had to be precise. Otherwise, all you did was cause more chaos and destruction. That had always been Dewey's problem with the idea of fighting fire with fire. Well… unless he knew that Dusty was in charge of the other flame. He'd always had complete confidence that she knew when and where those instances were called for.

God, how she misses him.

Nodding her head finally, Olivia says, "Let me just grab…"

"We don't have time for you to pack."

"No, just the video. The recording where Jacques says someone survived the fire. Maybe you… Jackie said you had ways of doing things that we don't. Maybe you can use it somehow? Figure something else out?"

Dusty doesn't argue with that. Just ushers her to hurry up, and then they bolt out of the other side of the tent and towards the cart where the children had been earlier.

They weren't there again, obviously. They were looking for Olivia. But Dusty found them easily enough after that, which she considers a relief. If ever she needed a break, this was it.

Beatrice had taught her children a great many things. This particular thing was that, when looking for someone in a rather crowded place, your chances were better when you were looking down at them from above. Beatrice obviously would've been flying over, the wings of her butterfly costume allowing her a genuine bird's eye view of the place.

Violet was at the top of one of the old, broken down roller coasters. The second she spotted Olivia and her aunt Dusty next to her, she worked on scrambling her way back down.

When they're finally all together at the edge of the large circus tent, Dusty hands Sunny over to Olivia. "You carry her. Now listen, all of you. The plane isn't that far out. It's just far enough that you can't see it behind the boulders Lou found to hide behind. I've gotten word to him that we're on our way, so he should have it prepped and waiting to take off the minute we get inside."

Bending down to the children's height, she stresses, "Do not turn back to look behind you if you hear him coming. Do not slow down. Do not stop running. Get to the plane. All of you."

They all nod, but Klaus asks, "What if he is coming after us though?"

Dusty simply stands up, glances back towards the tent where Olaf has just presented himself as the ringmaster, and then says, "Then he will deal with the Phantom Pixie. A task that even he should know better than to attempt."

Violet and Klaus look to each other, but not as though they're scared. The small smiles on their faces are full of hope. They actually do believe they'll make it out of this now.

Dusty glances at her watch, takes a breath, and then says, "Go."

She'd given Olivia directions on how to reach the plane before the children had reached them. Again, it wasn't hard to find. Dusty had brought them to this side of the tent so all they had to do was make a beeline for the western horizon, which was still cloaked in what little bit of shadow the early morning would allow. Olivia begins immediately sprinting in that direction, Violet and Klaus following as fast as they can.

Dusty hangs back for five seconds, and then begins running after them. The space between them now had two purposes. One… she could see all of them and keep them in her line of sight for the entire run. And two…

Well, if Olaf did end up coming out to try and find them before they'd made it far enough away, she could turn around and keep him busy enough that all four could get into the plane without her. Lou would take off at her command, with or without her. He knew better nowadays then to argue with her. She could handle herself. Even if that did mean she might come back home bloody, she could handle it.

God knows she's handled far worse things. At least in her opinion.

They make it halfway there when she hears one of the henchmen scream, "THEY'RE THIS WAY BOSS!"

Touching her earpiece, Dusty asks, "Hulk, does Lou have the bird up and running?"

The voice over the line is Duncan's when he answers, "Prepped and ready to take off as soon as the door closes."

Nodding, Dusty stops in her run and turns to look back. Olaf and his gang had bikes of sorts, and the car they'd all been riding in beforehand, and were now trailing a path of dust behind them as they raced towards the children.

This was the other part she'd told Olivia that she hadn't told the children. If they got to the plane, and Dusty wasn't there, they were still to get on. If Lou suddenly told her to shut the door after they were on board, she was to listen to him. And if the plane began rising up into the sky, and Dusty still wasn't on board, Olivia was to assure the children that everything was going to be okay.

And given that Olaf was closing the space between them at a rapid pace… that's what was going to happen. Touching her earpiece again, she says, "Duncan, I need to talk to Hulk."

A brief pause, and then Hulk's voice comes over the line, "Hulk here. What's wrong?"

"Olaf is pursuing us. In a car. I'm staying behind to delay him. You need to contact Lou and tell him to take off as soon as everyone else is on board."

"Pixie, how are you going to get home?"

She simply grins, "I'll borrow one of their rides. Or find my own. Either way, I'll make it work. I shouldn't have to take out their rides. They'll stop if I can make Olaf stop."

"What makes you think the other bad guys will stop after you take out Olaf's vehicle?"

"Because they're stupid. They can't do much of anything without him giving them exact instructions. If he ends up stopped, they stop with him."

Sighing, Hulk says, "I don't like it."

"You never do."

"Yeah! And that's because if you end up having to fight them, you're going to get hurt!"

"Your confidence in me is aboundingly reassuring."

"Don't get cute with me. Even if all it ends up being is bruises, you'll end up coming home all different shades of colors. You let them too close."

"That's how they let their guard down. It's also why I'm the best. I'm not afraid of being hurt. Makes me dangerous."

Hulk sighs again, "Just promise to try and only take a couple punches. And only if you have too. If they're stupid, then you should be fine."

Dusty nods to herself, and then says, "You know you're overstressing about this, right? I never get that hurt."

"Usually. Until something slips or someone else finally gets lucky. Next thing you know, you spend a month on bedrest because you broke so many bones it's a danger to your life if you move so much as a finger."

"Don't over exaggerate."

"Fine. Just kick their asses and find a way to get out of there safe. I'll talk to Lou."

"Thank you, Hulk."

"Roger."

Pulling out her cross bow, she loads up an arrow, and then fires at the tires of Olaf's car. The first shot misses, but the second one hits home. Then she fires at the other front tire, until Olaf literally can't make the car move fast enough to have hope of catching the children.

And as she'd suspected, all of his henchmen stop when he does. One of them, the one with no actual hands, is actually kind of sweet, asking if Olaf is alright, not just stopping because Olaf stopped. But Olaf shoves him away, screaming in fury as he launches himself from the car, slamming the door behind him.

He marches about ten steps in her direction, anger blinding him to just who it was he was approaching. But as soon as the dust finally settled around him, and he saw her slide a blade into her left hand… he froze, eyes widening in shock.

Olaf's mouth worked up and down like a gob-fish for a moment. Then he finally got out, "You… you… you're the…"

Dusty smirks behind her mask, and touches her throat piece to disguise her voice before saying, "Phantom Pixie. Glad to see my reputation precedes me."

Then for a moment, they all look up at the plane that is climbing into the sky. Far beyond Olaf's reach. When Dusty turns back, fury is back in Olaf's eyes. Glaring at her, he points to her and screams, "GET HER!"

The henchmen begin moving automatically at his command, Olaf pulling out his own knife and coming at her as well. Dusty simply twirls the knife she has in hand once, and then sighs before saying, "And here we go."

* * *

Sam was pacing back and forth in front of the screens. It had been half an hour since Dusty had been forced to turn back and deal with Olaf, rather than continue on with the children. Half an hour, and she hadn't contacted him again. And she wasn't answering.

It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He concedes that it's possible she decided her best chances were to hide in the shadows of the circus for a while. Dusty was an incredible fighter, he and everyone else that knew her in the slightest knew that. But… even Dusty had a limit. And considering Olaf was a mean son-of-a-bitch, and he had at least six other people on his side helping him…

Sam had all the confidence in the world that she'd turn out alright in the end. The only problem was, he wasn't sure if she needed him to send her some sort of help so she could get to the end at this point. Was she hurt? How badly? Did she need him to talk her through a quick procedure to stop herself from bleeding out? She hadn't needed stitches for quite some time. Did she still remember how to properly do that?

The list of worrisome questions swarmed around his head so fast that it was giving him a headache, but he didn't dare leave the room to go and find an Advil. Duncan had offered to get him something to eat or drink at one point, but Sam hadn't even acknowledged that the young boy had spoken.

Sam was about to try calling again, hand reaching up to press his own head piece to call her for what had to be the fortieth time by now. That's when it finally began ringing. Practically punching himself in the ear from how fast he answered, he winces before asking, "Pixie?"

Her voice is calm, but also pained when she answers, "Told you not to worry, Hulk."

He slumps heavily against his desk, and then pats Duncan on the shoulder when the boy rolls his chair over so he can fall into it. Letting his head fall back, he says, "You gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry."

"What happened?"

Dusty winces as a stitch gets put in. "Well… a couple of them got lucky once or twice. I was considerably better though, and if they aren't crawling their way back to the circus at this point, they're at least limping."

Hulk asks, "Kill anybody?"

At this she sighs, because the desire to kill Olaf was still as strong as ever. But she answers honestly, "No. Not today, anyway. Where are the children?"

"Still in the air. They keep calling back here waiting on word about you, even though I told them I'd call them as soon as I had anything." He gestures for Duncan to go ahead and put a call in to Lou so they can tell the Baudelaire's that Dusty is fine. Then he asks, "How bad?"

Dusty shrugs, "Could be worse. Olaf managed to get one of the lion's freed from the pit at one point, and before I could tranquilize him, he got close enough to swipe his claws down my back. The one with hooks managed to catch me in the thigh. But nothing's so…"

"A LION TRIES TO MAUL YOU TO DEATH!"

Dusty winces at the volume, and then sighs, "No, Hulk. A lion who was on his way to being asleep took one swipe at me and managed to hit pay-dirt. They're shallow."

"Do you need stitches?"

"Yes."

"Then they're not shallow enough. Where are you now? I'll send…"

"Not necessary."

"You just said you need stitches!"

Dusty nods, and then glances back at the hands currently working on that very thing. Wincing again, she says, "It's being handled."

"By who?!"

The woman in question finishes off her last stitch, and then comes around in front of Dusty. Eyes wide with curiosity, she asks, "How are you talking to him without a phone in your hands?"

Dusty stares at her for a moment, and then just sighs. She doesn't reveal her face. She'd already made it very clear with a knife to this woman's throat that her mask would not be coming off. But Dusty does reach past her mask to pull the device from her ear. Still speaking into it, she says, "Hulk, say hello to the one and only, Kit Snicket. Kit… say hello to Hulk."

Kit does so, staring at the tiny device in awed wonder. Then Dusty slips it back in before saying, "And Kit just confirmed that Quigley is the one they think is still alive. She's offered to get me back to the city, and from there I'll get back to you. I'm giving her our number so she can keep us updated if she finds anything, and vice versa."

Silence for a moment, and then Hulk asks, "You're really okay?"

"Not perfect, I concede to that. But yes, I'm okay."

He sighs in relief again, and then says, "In that case, I'll get back to work on trying to see if Quigley will show up on any cameras anywhere. Does… Does she know?"

Dusty shakes her head, "Mask still on. I'm just Pixie."

"Roger. Alright, get back as quickly as possible. I still want to look you over myself."

"Copy that, Hulk. See you later."

As soon as she hangs up, Kit asks, "Who was that?"

Dusty looks over at her, narrowing her eyes in the process. "Just feel honored that I even let you talk to him. Get in the car."

Once their inside and driving away, and have been driving for quite some time, Dusty takes a breath and finally says, "Thank you, by the way."

Kit glances over at her finally. She'd been staring out the windshield up until this point. She'd actually made a very conscious effort not to look in the Phantom Pixie's direction. Probably understanding that even if it had been a while since they'd lost Count Olaf, and even though Kit was the one who made that possible… the Pixie was still on edge. Being stared at certainly wasn't going to help anything at this point.

Dusty had always liked her best. Well… if Beatrice hadn't started dating Lemony, she would've liked Kit best. Lemony dating Bee kind of bumped him up, because let's face it. Anyone who was smart enough to see that Bee was about the greatest thing on the planet definitely earned points in his favor, as far as Dusty was concerned.

Taking a breath, Kit asks, "For what?"

Dusty actually grins. "For stitching me up. Even after I threatened to kill you for trying to touch my face. A lot of people probably would've just left me to bleed out."

Kit shrugs, "I'm not most people. What happened?"

"I thought you already knew that. Olaf happened."

"Yes, but why were you after him?"

"I wasn't after him. I was after the children."

Kit gasps, "The Baudelaire's? They were here?! Did you see them?"

Dusty nods, and before Kit can ask, she affirms, "They're safe. So is Olivia. They're on a flight to somewhere safe."

"Where?"

"Somewhere safe. That's all you need to know."

Kit glances over again, "I'm not with Olaf. I would never hurt them."

"But Olaf would, and still will. And your entire organization is too soft to be capable of keeping him in the dark. If I tell you where they're going, it will inevitably, by some awkward chain of communication, get back to Olaf. That's not going to happen."

They both go silent for a moment. Then Kit asks, "Who does know where they'll be? Is it just you?"

Dusty nods, "Me and my partner."

"And you're sure they'll be safe there?"

"I've made quite certain that there is no safer place in the world right now. Not even the people who paid me the money I used to build it know where it is. The people who know about its' location are me, and the people who are about to be there. No one else."

"That's a rather small circle."

"That's the best way to keep a secret. By keeping the circle of people who know as small as possible. Best way to do that? Only tell the people who absolutely need to know." Turning to look at Kit, she says kindly, but still bluntly, "And you don't need to know."

Kit doesn't argue that point. Instead she asks, "Are you still going to hunt for Count Olaf?"

"No. He's not worth my time. Besides, I just told you. I wasn't hunting him in the first place. I was hunting for the children."

"So now you're going to hunt for Quigley?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"My partner is a genius. Finding out where he might be or where he might've gone is his part of the job. Actually going to get him before he disappears again is mine."

"No, I understand that. But… how is he going to find him? You're obviously a lot farther advanced in ways of technology than we are. I still can't fathom how a device so small is capable of letting you talk to him from who-even-knows how far away. But he's never even seen Quigley. How is he…"

"Duncan and Isadora are also in my care. They're at the safe location the Baudelaire's are headed too. He's going to use Duncan's profile as a basis for finding Quigley. Then we'll narrow our search from there."

Silence encompasses the car again. Then Kit asks, "Would you have killed him? If I hadn't shown up to get you out of there?"

Dusty doesn't answer right away. She takes a moment to really think about whether she would have or not. Because even though she'd been hurt, she'd hurt them a hell of a lot more. Olaf was two punches away from dissolving into a puddle of tears. If Kit had driven up? If she hadn't assessed the situation, or known that Pixie was a trusted confident? If Kit hadn't offered to drive her away before Olaf could hope to chase after them?

Dusty finally just sighs and answers honestly, "At that particular moment… I don't know."

And it makes Dusty far happier than she'll admit out loud, when Kit responds with, "You needn't feel bad about that. It's nothing more than what he deserves. Probably better than he deserves, since you probably would've done it quickly."

Dusty shrugs at that, but concedes, "Probably."

Kit glances over again, and then asks, "You said you already knew my organization would be too soft to keep the children safe. How do you know who we are?"

"I am intelligent and resourceful individual. One who took it upon herself for quite some time to try and protect your organization from vanishing into thin air when the schism split all of you in half."

"You protect us?"

"I used to. I did well for quite some time. You people have no earthly idea how very close you all came to being eliminated at one point or another before I showed up."

Kit pauses, and then asks, "So… you don't help us anymore?"

Dusty sighs, "It's apparently not working. I thought you people would notice at some point that the bad guys' attention was elsewhere. I thought you'd get smarter, learn new tactics, become better. But you've stayed stagnant. Even Beatrice, God rest her soul, was willing to admit that your advancements were entirely too internally based, and not put forth enough externally to actually make a difference."

Kit looks over at her again when Dusty wipes at her eye in frustration. Getting rid of that tear, Dusty adds, "I spent so long trying to keep you all safe. Didn't do any good in the end. The one person that should've been the safest ended up dead in the end. So I'm done trying to protect all of you. If you're not willing to change and adapt, then it can't be done."

Kit actually nods, "So what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to keep the children safe. I'm going to teach them whatever they are willing to learn. I'm going to make sure that they understand that their values and morals are things to always hold firm too. But that change is necessary, adaptation essential, and that the ability to bend but never break will be one of their greatest assets."

Nodding firmly to herself, Dusty adds, "They will learn to understand that sometimes you really do have to fight fire with fire. You just have to be very precise about where and when you do it."

And Dusty actually jumps when, instead of trying to argue, Kit smiles before saying, "You sound just like an incredibly dear friend of mine."

"Who?"

"You wouldn't know him. But he has that very same viewpoint. Has for quite some time. Perhaps one day, if you'll allow it, you'll get to meet him. Maybe then he'd be able to let go of his past."

Dusty doesn't ask anymore questions. She just allows them to sit in silence on their way back to civilization. Besides, she didn't need to ask any more questions to know who Kit was talking about. There was only one other person in VFD she knew about who had ever shared her point of view, and that was because they were the ones who, together, had come up with the compromise between what had once been two entirely separate points of view.

And that was Dewey Denouement.

* * *

As Dewey sat in his study, reviewing tapes and notes, he glances up when the bolts on the door opens. Jackie steps in, followed immediately by Larry. Standing up quickly, Dewey asks, "What's wrong? Is it Jacques?"

Jackie shakes her head, "He's still in rough shape, but he's stable and fine."

Dewey nods, and then gestures to his desk, "I've been trying to figure out how Olaf's been managing to stay ahead this entire time. I know you all thought it might've been Ernest giving him clues, but I'll say it again, it's not him. He might be closer to the opposite side of the schism, but he wouldn't…"

Dewey has to pause, his hand tightening into a fist. Frank and Ernest were often like polar opposites, even he knew that. Frank was all about fighting fires, putting them out with wisdom and good conversation and wits. Ernest was about using fire, even starting them wherever he felt them necessary.

The only reason neither of them really considered themselves to be on a particular side of VFD, was because of him. Because before any of them actually took any action, the three of them got together to discuss it as a group. Frank and Ernest were both smart enough to know that their viewpoints were, in some cases, a bit extreme on both sides. Dewey, on the other hand, was a happy medium between the two. It's why together, the three of them managed not to cause quite as much trouble as maybe some of the others in their organization were prone to.

He knows he's only a happy medium at all though, because Dusty had managed to find him all those years ago. He closes his eyes as her face flashes to the forefront of his memory. It hurt to remember her… but he also couldn't imagine what he would be like, what kind of man he would be, if she weren't still there. The whispers of her own unique thought-process singing to him from time to time, before he actually opened his own mouth to speak to his brothers.

And that was really why Dewey knew Ernest wouldn't have helped Count Olaf. He doesn't believe his brother would've actually done anything for anyone on the anti-VFD side of the organization. Certainly not if he knew they might start a fire and kill someone. But he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Ernest would not have helped Count Olaf. Not after what he'd helped do to Dusty. Not after…

He closes his eyes again, pushing that memory aside. Gesturing to his desk again, he says, "Ernest would not have helped that sad excuse of a human being. He's doing what he can on his side to try and help me find the mole. At this point, we're pretty sure that's the only option. VFD has a mole. We just have to find it. But I'm running out of ideas of where to look."

Jackie nods, not arguing that point. After the many conversations she'd had with Dusty these past months, she's not surprised by any of these ideas anymore. But that's not why she's here. Well… it's partly why she's here… but right now?

She and Larry share a look. Olivia had called them to tell them that the children were being taken to a safe location. Olivia was not allowed to go. On that, Dusty had remained firm. Olivia honestly thought it might give them at least a small reason to wonder if the children were truly going to be safe. She was going to get Lemony now, no matter what. To tell him what she knew, and to see if he would help her continue trying to 'save' the Baudelaire children.

Olivia had hung up before Jackie could tell her that the children, so long as they were wherever Dusty put them, could not be in any safer place. Dusty would guard them with her life, and there was nothing Olaf could do to get to them now. Instead, since Olivia had apparently left wherever she'd just called from, she and Larry called Lemony, and told him at this point that Dusty, Dustine Baudelaire, was in fact still alive. That she had been, almost as he had been, following the Baudelaire's since they'd been kidnapped.

Of course, he assumed that the children would've never seen Dusty before. He assumed that they wouldn't have any idea who she was at all. But before Jackie could get more into that, he'd had to hang up, or else be caught by the latest set of authorities that were trying to still arrest him for the murder he didn't commit.

Jackie had promised to keep Dusty's secret until after she'd managed to rescue the Baudelaire children. Now they were safe, but Dusty wasn't finished. She was going after Quigley. She was going to thwart Olaf at every turn. She was going to make sure that the man, if she still allowed him to live when she was through, would only ever be allowed to crawl through his miserable existence on this earth ever again.

And Larry knew, just as Jackie knew, that part of why Dusty wasn't going to come back right away, why she wasn't going to re-introduce herself to VFD again right away… was because she was terrified of what Dewey Denouement's reaction would be to seeing her again. And perhaps they are wrong to do this. Perhaps hearing about it now wouldn't change a thing about how he reacted when he actually did see her again.

But come hell or high water, they were going to make sure that Dewey saw her again. And one way to ensure that happened, whether or not Dusty was completely on board with the idea or not…

Stepping closer, Jackie says, "Dewey, we have something important to tell you."

He crosses his arms, coming to stand in front of his desk. Nodding, he asks, "What?"

Larry gestures to his chair first though, "You may want to sit."

Dewey raises an eyebrow, but compromises by leaning back to rest against the edge of his desk. Shrugging, he asks, "What is it? Do you know something about the mole?"

Jackie shakes her head, "Not that."

"Something about the Baudelaire children then? Where they might be right now?"

Larry intercedes, "We know they're probably on their way to a safe place. But we don't know where that is. In any case, that's not what we're here to tell you."

Jackie turns to him, "Well… it sort of is. It… she's involved."

Larry nods, "Okay, sort of. But it's not… Dewey, you really should sit down for this."

Rolling his eyes, Dewey stands up straight and says, "Both of you just spit it out. We don't have time for this. And if it's not about the mole, or about the children, then I honestly don't think I even want to hear it. So hurry up so I can get back to…"

Jackie cuts him off, "Dewey… the children are safe. They were rescued by the Phantom Pixie."

Blinking, eyes then widening in shock, Dewey asks, "The… the Pixie? But, why would she…"

Larry nods, "Because she had her own reasons for wanting to save the children. They're her kin."

Dewey throws up his hands, "Her kin?! Pixie is a ghost. How would we even begin to know if she has any kin? Besides, Bertrand didn't have any relatives still living. Beatrice's parents are dead, and Dusty…"

He couldn't actually bring himself to say it. He wasn't going to bother. Both of them already knew anyway.

But the next words out of Jackie's mouth stop him cold. He literally froze in place, as Jackie says gently, "Dewey… Dusty is alive. She's been alive all this time. And she… she is Phantom Pixie. I… I saw her, with my own eyes."

The list of questions that need to be asked begins rolling through his mind at a rapid pace. So many questions, and uncertainties. He's honestly not sure he believes it. Dusty? Alive? That wasn't… it's been twenty years. She couldn't be…

He turns to Larry, who knew better than almost anybody, except maybe his brothers, just what this might to do him. False hope was not something he could let in. It would crush him this time, if there was even the slightest chance that any of this wasn't true. So, with tears welling up in his eyes, he asks Larry, "How certain?"

Larry is honestly just glad that Dewey isn't calling them liars. But Dewey was smarter than that, Larry should've known. And because Dewey knew Larry wouldn't even bring this to him without some level of certainty, he was asking him to give an estimation on how certain he was that Dusty actually was back from the dead.

Nodding to Dewey, keeping his voice gentle, he says, "One-hundred percent, Dewey. It's her."

In hindsight though, Larry should've known better than to simply say that and not be braced for something drastic to happen. Dewey would have questions, they'd known that. He'd probably be angry, they were braced for that.

They were not, however, braced for his eyes to roll back in his head, and for him to faint and fall to the ground. Hence his head thumping to the floor before they could move to catch him.

The last thing that rolls through Dewey's mind is simply the same sentence on repeat. Dusty is alive. Dusty is alive.

Dustine Baudelaire, the ever-burning flame that kept his heart beating, the only woman he would ever grow to love, was alive.

And she was going to be in trouble when he found her again. So. Much. Trouble.

* * *

Chapter 6!

Finally got this chapter done. For those who have been waiting, I do apologize. All I can say is, life gets busy sometimes. But here it finally is, and I hope you enjoyed it. :)


	8. A Tense Conversation

Disclaimer: "I do not own 'A Series of Unfortunate Events'. Not the books, not the movie, not the TV series... none of it. I own Dusty, and any original content I make her do or say or add to this story. That is all."

* * *

Chapter 7: A Tense Conversation

Finding Quigley was both harder and easier on Dusty then finding the Baudelaire's had been. With Sunny, Violet, and Klaus, it had never been truly difficult to finally figure out where they'd end up going next. The hard part had been reaching them before something else unfortunate could happen to them again. The frustration of that, when Dusty knew she should be skilled enough to have accomplished it in a week rather than months, is what truly had bothered her the most in that.

Quigley, on the other hand… no one had a clue where he might've gone. No one could figure out, if he was alive, why he'd stayed hidden this long. And in fact, finding Quigley proved to be more of a hardship and frustration for Sam then it did for Dusty. Because try as he might, Sam simply couldn't find this kid.

When he finally did though, it made him feel a little better to know that there was an actual reason for that. Sam discovered, through a great deal of hacking and enhancing of footage and documents, not to mention having to perform a massive recreation on some video feed that had come from Montgomery's home; that Quigley had somehow ended up there.

Dusty went out to what was still left of the Quagmire mansion, and figured out that one of the trap doors had indeed been used before the fire had taken over and killed the triplets' parents. That was why Quigley was still alive. Because his mother had put him down there before the house had burnt down. Then he'd apparently taken to the tunnels, and ended up at Montgomery's mansion.

Of course, Monty had already been dead and taken away at that point. But Sam saw that Quigley had still stayed, and had taken to reading what books were still in Montgomery's study. Including the one that all the other children were now trying to read through. In that sense, Quigley was a head of the game, and by then he knew he had to keep a low profile.

Which is why ever since then, he'd been traveling in some form of disguise. That is why Sam was having such a hard time tracking him. The boy was doing hard work making himself invisible.

Sam's frustration with this couldn't be greater. Dusty's pride in how clever Quigley already is at this age is possibly even larger than Sam's frustration though. The only reason Olaf wasn't after him, right on top of him, holding him in his clutches as they were speaking, is because Quigley had done such a great job of going into hiding.

It took another month to finally find him. A video feed that had been damaged at the main VFD headquarters, way up in the snowy mountains, finally shot through a few vague images. Of a young boy in warm clothes, but with a fencing mask over his face. He could've been anyone. A wandering mountain hiker, a curious surveyor of the mountains. He could've been the person who set the fire that they could see had burnt the entire place to the ground.

Sam took Duncan's height and width measurements, along with any others he could think of. Then he compared them to the boy on the screen and declared that he was ninety-eight-point-four percent certain that it was Quigley.

Dusty raised an eye at the random number, but boarded the plane with Lou nonetheless. Both twins tried to insist on coming, saying that it would make it easier to convince Quigley that he could trust Dusty to bring him somewhere safe. She honestly didn't want to allow it, but Sam helped them out by declaring that he didn't want her to waste any more time up in the mountains then she had to. If Olaf was still up there, as he had been according to the last satellite sightings, then Dusty needed to get in and out as fast as possible.

So basically, unless she was willing to grab and drag Quigley along with her if he should refuse her help, Dusty was going to need some way to convince him rapidly to trust her. And since she'd already proven that she didn't want to grab and force any of the children to come with her?

It ended up being Isadora that accompanied her. Dusty would only compromise on the issue, agreeing to bring one of the twins, but not both. Sam made that decision easier by deciding that Duncan could be of more help on the computers than his sister would.

Dusty just shook her head when Isadora teased her later about how much easier it was to retrieve Quigley, since Isadora basically just had to tell him to come on, and he simply came.

But not without the message he'd managed to decode, which stated that there was to be some sort of important meeting in 'The Last Safe Place'.

Upon arriving back at her house, Dusty told the children she would look into it in the morning. But the look she gave Sam said that he was to move incredibly slowly on his 'looking into it' part of things.

She already knows what the last safe place is. It had always been, and would always be, Hotel Denouement. Where Dewey was. Where Dewey would probably always be.

A place that now, when she thought about so much as setting foot on the grounds, made her entire body shake in terror.

She's talked to Jackie several times since having rescued the Baudelaire's. And each time, Jackie becomes more adamant about trying to bring Dusty back into the real world. To bring her back to Dewey. Dusty honestly hasn't answered the last few times Jackie's called. She just can't handle it.

Here she was. One of the toughest warriors her nameless organization, which had now shutdown after she and Sam left, had ever hired. She could take on countless enemies and walk away with minor injuries if she stayed sharp. Hell, she'd been attacked by lions, and come out of that with nothing more than scratches on her back. Granted, Sam still declared they were deeper than he would ever approve of… but still. That's not the point.

Point was, she could handle a lot. More than most people. She wasn't perfect, but she was the best of this day and age. And yet when Dewey was mentioned, when the idea of letting him know she was still alive came up… she could hardly keep standing. The fear wasn't just a thing of terror that made her want to run. It was a paralyzing fear that made running impossible. If she sees him again, looks into his eyes, she'll be trapped. She knows she will. And all the anger she'd see there…

Dear God. She might actually die of heartache.

Now it's the middle of the night, one week before the meeting is to take place. And she still hasn't given the children an answer on whether she'll go, or if she'll let them attend as well. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny are all convinced it will have something to do with Count Olaf. And if there is even the slightest chance they can help put him behind bars, they want to do that. Duncan, Isadora, and Quigley are all eager to help them as well, not just because they are loyal friends, but because he did the same to their parents as well. And attempted to do it to several other kids' parents.

That's what this last week, the week after finding that secret message, has been about. It's the thing that's given Dusty time to avoid answering those questions. Because Olaf, and his parental figures, Beardless Lady and Hairless Man, were trying to kill more families, leaving several young children to fall into their care with inherited fortunes of their own.

It's not lost on the children that Dusty is stalling. But seeing that her stalling is in the interest of saving other children like themselves, they don't push the issue. Plus, Sam has already told them that pushing it wouldn't do them any good. Dusty was willing to bend in a million different ways, as much as necessary to make things work out for the better in the end. But even she had a breaking point.

Dewey. He was her breaking point.

In any case, Sam had thrown himself into helping her track down the families of the Snow Scout children that Quigley had been traveling with for a little while. All of them were now safe, with their respective children, in an undisclosed location. Dusty allowed only one person in VFD to know where they were, and that was so they could be sent to safer places that the anti-VFD couldn't go. And that was Jackie.

Speaking of which, as she stares up at her ceiling, a million thoughts running through her head and refusing to let her sleep, Dusty sighs when her phone rings. She didn't have her connected device in her ear right now, so she reaches over to pick it up. "Jackie, it's the middle of the night. I'm not in the mood."

But the voice on the end of the line isn't Jackie's. It simply says, "Hello, sweetheart."

Dusty knows it's not Dewey. Just as those triplets didn't actually all look identical, they didn't sound identical either. But again, Dusty was just about the only person who could pick them apart that way. And even though she knows this is Ernest, and not Dewey, her body freezes completely for a moment before sitting upright in bed.

She wishes she had her earpiece in. She wouldn't have to worry about dropping the phone in her trembling hand if she was wearing her earpiece. Gulping past the sudden lump in her throat, she asks even though she already knows, "Ernest?"

On the other end of the line, where Frank has set up the office phone to play for everyone to hear through the speaker, Ernest smiles, "Yeah. It's been a long time."

Silence greets him. For so long that he looks at Frank worriedly before asking, "Dusty?"

She removes the hand from over her mouth where she'd snapped it to hide her sob. Sniffing, she asks, "Yeah?"

Ernest gentles his tone, "Oh, sweetheart. Please don't cry."

"Can't help it. Missed you."

"We've missed you too. All of us."

"How are you calling me? How do you know it's me? How do you know…"

Ernest chuckles, "Always with so many questions. You gonna let me answer one, or would you rather I wait until you rattle them all off?"

Dusty lets out a humorless laugh, "We'll be here all night."

"That would suit me just fine." She doesn't respond to that, so he continues, "Very well. I know you're alive, and that this is you, because Jackie told me so."

"I told her not to…"

"She swore to keep your promise until after the children were safe. The children have been safe for over a month, thanks to you. She kept her word until then."

Silence, and then she asks, "Does… does Dewey know?"

Ernest glances at his brother, Dewey, who is leaning back against the far corner of the desk. He was just one of the many people in the room at this point, but the most crucial one by far. At least where Dusty was concerned. Upon Ernest looking at him questioningly, Dewey in turn looks to Jackie, who shakes her head. It was her opinion, and most others, that if Dusty thought Dewey already knew, there was no way in hell they'd convince her to show up here.

He's not so sure that's true. In fact, he's fairly certain he knows he could make her show up here. But he's been overruled for now, so he looks back to Ernest and shakes his head. Back to the phone, Ernest says, "No. No, he doesn't know yet."

Dusty leans her head back against her headboard in what she thinks is probably a twisted sort of relief. Then she asks, "Um… why are you calling? Why haven't you told him, since you already know?"

Ernest shrugs, "Figured I'd let you do that at least. Make no mistake though, Jackie would probably have done it already if Frank and I hadn't talked her out of it."

"Frank knows too?"

Frank looks up at Ernest worriedly at the broken sound of Dusty's voice. They weren't supposed to be scaring her at this point. This was supposed to make her happy. They knew she was alive, and they weren't angry. Wasn't that the thing she was afraid of? Dewey's anger?

Dewey looks concerned too, but doesn't interrupt when Frank says gently, "Hey, sweetheart. Yeah, I know too. It's good to hear your voice."

A pause, and then Dusty whispers, "You too."

Smiling Frank says, "Listen, I'm sure you have questions. We have them too. But… how about for now, we cut to the chase?"

"Sure. What do you need?"

Ernest jumps in, "You, essentially. You and for you to bring the children with you. We know you won't let them come if you don't come too. But we need them."

"Why do you need the children?"

"Because the meeting we're having here isn't really a meeting. It's a trial. Count Olaf's trial."

Dusty blinks at that, "Olaf's being put on trial?"

"Yeah. We knew he'd figure out the secret message. That's why we didn't state it more clearly. He's been here for a day now, and we're going to make sure he can't leave tomorrow. The trial will take place after that… which I understand is a little ahead of schedule, but we were hoping everyone we needed would be here by now."

Sighing, Dusty says, "Including the children."

Frank nods, "We thought you would've brought them by now. Thought they probably wouldn't have taken no for an answer. Which… I mean, if you're their guardian, you can obviously tell them they can't go and they'd have to listen I guess. But… it's Olaf. We thought…

Dusty cuts him off, "Is Dewey going to be there?"

Ernest nods, "Yeah. Everyone is going to be there. I mean, Dewey will be in the background. He always is. But he'll be there."

Dusty can feel her heart begin pounding in her chest, and she can't stop her voice from cracking and breaking when she says, "Um… I just… I don't think it's a good idea. The children… they've been through enough. They don't… they shouldn't…"

The pain that starts in her chest is a bit disturbing, and she rubs against it as Frank says, "You know they would want Olaf put away. And by now, we're pretty sure you must think being killed is too good for him. Otherwise…"

They both look to Dewey again, who nods firmly that he stands by what he had told them a week ago. If Dusty hadn't killed the man by now, it's because she thought death was too swift and sweet for him. She wanted him to suffer, long and hard, and to have no choice but to live his life knowing that his greed and envy would never be satisfied.

Frank is about to continue on with his statement, but the sudden gasp on the other end of the line has him jerking up out of his seat. Ernest leans closer to the phone, "Dusty? Dusty, what's…"

"Shit." That's all they hear from her end at first. Then a crashing of sorts, followed by what sounds like someone stumbling down the stairs. "Shit!"

Jackie, who had been standing with Lemony and Olivia on the other side of the room, hurries forward now. The plan had been for Frank and Ernest to be the only ones talking, to do the job of convincing Dusty to come and bring the children with her. But that plan was out the window now, and she pushes Ernest slightly aside and asks, "Dusty? Dusty, what's happening?!"

As Dusty finally reaches the bottom floor, she pulls in another pained and panicked breath before wheezing out, "Sam!"

She knew he'd be awake. While they'd been hunting for the children, Sam had pulled countless all-nighters. But on average days and assignments, he was able to do everything he needed in record time, and still get some sleep. Except he didn't do mornings. And by that, we're talking any part of the morning. Seeing him wake up before eleven was to be considered a miracle. Instead, for him, a regular day of work would probably start at twelve or sometime after that, and then extend into the wee hours of the night. Three or four o'clock in the morning were what he called his prime time, and then he'd go to sleep either right then, or sometimes not until five.

Bottomline, even though it was the middle of the night, this is where Dusty knew he'd be. Which is why she didn't even look for him when she reached the bottom of the stairs. She clenched her eyes shut in pain, and simply forced his name past her lips.

His hands were on her moments later. Pushing her into a chair she hadn't seen when she first arrived. The phone was swiped from her hand, and then he pressed his against the top of her spine, forcing her to bend over and put her head between her knees.

"Breathe, Pixie. Just breathe."

Standing back up, phone now pressed to his ear, he asks, "Who the hell is this?"

Jackie blinks, but then says, "Hi Sam. I… it's Jackie. The one you've been talking to. I…"

"Great. What the fuck did you do?"

"What?! What do you mean? I…"

Sam steps further away from Dusty, and then hisses into the phone, "Are you pushing her again? To see Dewey? Because I told you not to fucking do that."

"But I didn't push her. I mean… I wasn't the one who…"

"She's having a freaking panic attack in here. If you weren't talking about Dewey, which is the only thing in the world that would make her act this way, then what the hell were you talking to her about?"

Jackie puts a hand over her mouth, leaning back while Ernest leans closer to the phone. "Um… it actually wasn't her. I… we were the ones on the phone when she first picked up. Jackie only started talking after Dusty stopped. I guess she stopped to go find you."

"And who the hell is this?!"

"Ernest."

"Ernest?" Sam glances back at Dusty, who is still holding her head where it rests between her knees. He thinks about it for a moment, and then asks, "Ernest Denouement? Dewey's brother?"

Ernest blinks in surprise, "Um, yeah. How did you…"

"I know about all of you. Everyone in your organization. Dusty had me keeping tabs on all of you for a while there. But that's not important right now."

Frank crosses his arms, "It's not?"

"No, it's not! What's important right now, is figuring out why the hell you're on the phone, talking to Dusty?! Who told you she was still alive?! Never mind, don't answer that. It was Jackie, because Jackie was the first one who knew and the only one who knew until she started telling other people. You said 'we' a minute ago. 'We answered the phone when she picked up'. Who the hell is we?"

Ernest glances at his brothers, then at the rest of the room. Sighing, he then says, "Well, Frank and I were the ones actually talking on the phone."

A tense pause, and then Sam says through his teeth, "Frank Denouement? As in Dewey's other brother?"

Jackie nods, "Yeah. They were…"

"You mean to tell me that you had Ernest and Frank, Dewey's brothers, the two people closest to him in the world, call Dusty up and try to get her to come to this meeting or whatever your supposed to be having? You had Ernest and Frank, two of the only people in the world who originally knew just how close Dewey and Dusty really were, call her and tell her she needed to come to you? You, essentially, got Dewey's doppelgangers to gang up on her?"

Jackie sighs, "They aren't mad. I thought if she could see that they weren't mad, she'd…"

"THEY AREN'T THE ONES SHE WAS ENGAGED TO! SHE ISN'T IN LOVE WITH THEM! SHE'S IN LOVE WITH DEWEY!" Sam sucks in a breath, "Aside from that, how could you actually be that stupid, Jackie?"

Frank frowns, "Hey. Don't talk to her that way. We're Dewey's brothers, and in some ways we are a lot alike. She thought we could be examples of how happy we are that she's not dead. We…"

Sam barks out a laugh, "You three are nothing alike. Dusty's told me so. A million times. And even if that weren't the case, it's not Dewey being mad at her that she really has a problem with. I mean… yeah, that's part of it. She might not even realize what her main issue is with the whole situation. But I do, and it's not that!"

Ernest blinks, along with everyone else in the room. Then he asks, "But… she told Jackie that she was afraid he'd be mad at her. Right? So…"

Sam sighs, "She's not 'afraid' that Dewey will be mad at her. She knows he will be. And well within his rights to be so. Thinking about telling him she's still alive has never been brought up at all without her knowing he's going to be pissed. That's not the thing giving her a panic attack right now."

Jackie throws up her hands, "Then what is?!"

"Seriously, Jackie? She's afraid he won't ever be able to forgive her."

Blinking, Jackie says, "But… I told her he would. I told her…"

"Oh, and you're the most brilliant person on the planet, so she's just supposed to believe you when you say that? Huh? Seriously, did you even know her at all when you didn't think she was dead?"

Ernest buts in, "Hey! Ease up, alright. Let me tell her that Dewey will forgive her. Maybe she'll believe…"

"You guys don't get it. It's not even a matter of whether or not it makes sense. This is the one thing, literally the one and only thing, that Dusty is actually terrified of. Terrified to the point of all-out panic. Terrified to the point that, in order to actually believe it might be possible, it's going to have to be something she actually sees with her own eyes. Not hear from other people, no matter how close you might be to him. She's going to have to actually witness it happening. Which, since she's so terrified it won't happen, is a nearly impossible thing for her to try and let happen in the first place."

Glancing back at Dusty, who is finally beginning to breathe easier, he sighs once more. Pinching the bridge of his own nose, he turns back to the phone. "You aren't encouraging her by having Dewey's brothers try to convince her to come down. She's not stupid. She knows that if they know, and they want her there that badly, that they probably have some kind of plan to force her to see Dewey again. Which would definitely ensure that he's given the option to never forgive her for what she did. I told you, Jackie, to let me handle getting her to the hotel."

Silence is all that passes between them all for a long time. Jackie glances over to Dewey to see if he's alright. Definitely a bad choice on her part, since he wasn't. There were tears in his eyes, and confusion seemed to be covering his entire face. He was probably wondering the same thing the rest of them were. After all this time, time in which he'd still never loved anyone but her, how could she think he'd never forgive her?

But that was it, wasn't it? Dewey wiped at his eyes to clear them as it finally occurred to him. Dusty had put this person… Sam, was that his name? Anyway, Dusty had put him in charge of keeping tabs on everyone in VFD. Including him. And Sam could probably tell Dusty a lot about him, but Sam couldn't read Dewey the same way Dusty had been able to.

She'd probably never dared to look at him on whatever camera or system of surveillance that Sam had used to keep his tabs. She knew she wouldn't be able to bear it. People could tell her all day, till they were blue in the face, that Dewey had never moved on. That he still did, and would always love her with everything he had. But there was a difference in hearing something, having it told to you, and actually seeing it for yourself.

Dusty only knew Dewey hadn't moved on because Jackie and Sam had told her. She hadn't actually looked at him to see just how unmoved he was. How, even though he had been mad at her, his joy at the idea that she was in fact still alive was by far the more powerful and prominent emotion he felt. She hadn't seen the meetings they'd all been having, trying to come up with the perfect plan to get her to come back to them.

She hadn't seen him pack a suitcase with every intention of going out to find her, then unpack it because he wouldn't even begin to know where to look, and then repack it again because… damnit, he needed to find her. See her. Hold her. Dusty had kept tabs on all of them, trying to ensure they remained safe for a time. But she'd never actually looked herself.

She couldn't see it, in his eyes right this very moment, just how easily it would be to forgive her. She was still going to be in trouble when he found her again. But he was over being angry… at least for the most part. The trouble she'd find herself in when he did get hold of her again was going to be of a different kind. The kind that featured him, playing her body like his favorite instrument again, until he decided he was convinced she would never do this to him again. And he intended to need a great deal of convincing.

But first… first they had to get her to come to him. And Jackie's plan, this approach that was meant to be a gentle show of how easy it could be, simply wasn't going to work. They were going to need a more direct approach. Not something to convince her everything was okay.

Something to convince her that nothing would be okay, now or ever again, if she didn't show up here.

Sam is about to keep talking. Explaining to everyone that he would see what he could do. But before he can, Dusty is at his side. And the look on her face… a sort of terror mixed with absolute rage… made him do a double-take.

She held out her hand for the phone, which he handed back willingly. Then she put it to her ear, and her mouth popped open slightly, lower lip trembling. At first, she couldn't even get out what she was trying to say.

But while she'd been sitting in the chair, half listening to Sam talk to the others on the phone… she'd been thinking. Putting a series of things together.

Jackie had already told Larry she was alive. Larry was even closer to Dewey than Jackie was. Ernest knew she was alive. So did Frank. The only other people who might be as close to Dewey as those four, would be the Snickets at this point. But the bottom line, was that four people, four of Dewey's closest confidents nowadays, knew that she, his former fiancée, was alive.

If she hadn't had a panic attack, she may not have had time to think about that before the conversation had ended. But now she had thought about it. And now she was convinced of one overwhelmingly terrifying truth.

There was no way in hell that at least one of those four, and most likely all four, had not already told Dewey that she was still alive. Which meant he knew. The man who she'd loved, and would always love more than anything… he knew she wasn't dead. He knew what she'd done.

Heart pounding in her chest, she asks in a hard tone, "Where is he?"

Jackie blinks, "He? You mean Ernest? He's…"

"Jacqueline. Where. Is. He?"

There was a brief moment in which everyone else in the room was looking at each other, wondering what she was talking about. But Dewey knew. His lover was brilliant, in her own ways. She may have reached her final conclusion at a slightly slower pace than perhaps her sister would have… but Dusty had gotten there nonetheless. She knew he was there. Listening. Waiting.

This whole exercise had been pointless. He'd told them it wouldn't work. Now, he was going to try his way. Walking from the other end of the desk over to his brothers, he bends down with his hands on the desk. Mouth over the phone, he waits for a moment, letting the thick pause linger in the air a bit longer. He'd waited twenty years to find out she was still alive. She could wait five more seconds to figure out that he knew.

Then he said, in his own teasing and slightly dangerous tone, "Hello, darlin'."

And while everyone else might've been surprised by the sound of crashing as the phone probably got thrown against a hard surface… Dewey was not. Turning the phone in Jackie's direction, he says, "Call Sam's number. Now."

"But…"

The look he gave her left no room for argument. And as she dialed, she asks, "What are you going to do?"

She turned the phone back towards him, but instead of leaving it on speaker, he picked up the phone handle so only he could hear. And while waiting for someone to pick up, he simply answers, "I'm going to get my fiancée back."

* * *

_Flashback:_

_They'd finally decided to tell Beatrice about Dewey, and about their relationship. Bee was the second most important person in Dusty's life. Dewey was the first, and Dusty had teased him before that he wasn't leading by much._

_His response to that would always be to kiss her as slowly and teasingly as possible, until she would finally concede that he was at least a mile ahead in the race for her affections._

_In any case, they'd picked tonight, because they knew it would make Beatrice happy. She'd been worried about Dusty as of late. All the time that Dusty seemed to spend alone… she feared that Dusty would never meet anyone special. And Beatrice believed wholeheartedly that her little sister was amazing, and deserved someone who could appreciate that. She'd thought it could be Jacques at one point… but oh, what a mistake that had been._

_Tonight, Beatrice was giving a grand performance at the opera. It was the final showing, which was always the one in which Beatrice was the most magnificent. She excelled in every single performance she gave, but the last ones were always her favorites. They were bittersweet, which was the exact same way she liked her tea._

_So, given that Beatrice would be having one of the best nights of her life, Dusty thought it appropriate that they tell her tonight. If giving a great performance and drinking tea afterwards with friends was something that made Beatrice's heart swell with joy, then hearing Dusty's good news was bound to make it burst._

_Dusty, currently, is watching Olaf with a wary eye. The man, as of late, had been showing more and more fascination with the fires that they were supposed to be putting out. He was even now, as they were sitting here watching the play, using his telescope to shine a beam of light at a curtain, singeing it to start a tiny fire._

_He had the tiniest of pleased smiles on his face as he let it continue burning for a moment. Then he cast his glance slightly back and to the side… and panic lit his eyes for a moment as he met Dusty's piercing gaze. His foot quickly and discreetly stomped out the flame… but there was no mistaking that she'd seen it._

_She was watching him._

_He turned back to the theatre, Kit on his arm happily watching Beatrice perform. Dusty was pondering how to bring up to her second favorite Snicket that her boyfriend was developing an unhealthy fascination with fire. That's when she jerked in surprise as Lemony jumped to his feet and began clapping vigorously for Beatrice._

_Dusty couldn't help grinning at the smitten man. Then her breath caught in her throat as two fingers landed gently on her bare shoulder. She honestly can't believe at one point she'd thought she should stop wearing shirts or dresses that showed off her shoulders. If they were covered, Dewey wouldn't be able to trail his fingers across her tender skin in such a tantalizing way._

_Just like he was now, trailing them lightly, teasingly, with no more than a feather touch. And she can practically see the smirk on his face, knowing what his touch does to her. He trailed it in towards her neck, gliding up and letting his fingers brush the back of her jaw for a moment._

_Then the touch was gone, and so was he. For when Dusty rose and turned around, he was nowhere to be seen. But then again, he never was when he decided to surprise her in public._

_Beatrice could have her seat until she returned. Then they'd both go and see Dewey together. But right now… oh, the man was teasing her. On a day when she hadn't been able to see him at all. Or the day before. Too many things had been going on, so it had been a couple nights since she'd been to the library._

_Maybe for most couples, that wasn't a long time. But she practically lived there now, so it was for them._

_He was waiting in a back room marked for employees only. Everything that went on above the stage in the ceiling was done from up here, at balcony height. But since Beatrice often performed here, all of VFD had a key to these doors._

_As Dusty came in, Dewey grinned when she immediately whirled on him with, "I told you if you…"_

_She doesn't get to finish. He closes the door by backing her into it, turns the lock to ensure it won't open easily right behind them, and covers her mouth with his before she can get another word in edgewise. Not that she was complaining._

_Hands cupping her face, angling her head for a deeper kiss, he chuckles when she has to turn away to breathe. Kissing the line of her jaw, he says, "You told me that if I make you gasp in front of everyone while they still don't know I'm dating you, you'd kick my ass."_

_Dusty sighs as he tugs against the skin of her throat with his lips. Swallowing thickly, she says, "Ex… exactly. So… you should… you should be… dear God, please touch me."_

_Dewey laughs heartily at that, earning a light punch to his shoulder. But he does finally oblige, his hands dropping to land at her back. Half of which was uncovered and bare since the dress dropped down pretty far back there. The ruby red number was a personal favorite of hers and of his. His, because he loved the way she looked in the elegant, simple, and yet ravishing red dress. And hers… because of the way Dewey looked at her whenever she wore it._

_Fingers trailing across her skin, he kisses her lips again heavily before pulling back. Brushing his nose against hers, he smiles before whispering, "Hello, darlin'."_

_Smiling back, laughing at him now, she says, "Hi. Been a while."_

"_Two days almost. I'm not sure how we survived."_

"_Same."_

_He kisses the end of her nose, and then asks, "You ready for this?"_

"_Are you?"_

_At the concern in her eyes, Dewey smiles gently, "Yes, darlin'. Beatrice is your favorite person in the world. Consequently, I know you're her favorite, and that Lemony is her second. I intend to be her third. Which I can't very well do, if she doesn't know I exist."_

_Dusty kisses him lightly, and then says, "I just want to make sure you're ready for this. There's no going back."_

_Dewey simply lifts her left hand up to his lips, kissing her knuckles and then over top of the ring she was wearing. She'd been occasionally hiding it, so others wouldn't ask who it came from. But she was wearing it on full display tonight. And Dewey couldn't be happier, seeing it on her finger as though it had always belonged there._

_Lifting his gaze back to hers, he voices softly, "The only direction I ever want to go in with you, is forward. Always forward."_

_Dusty smiles, kisses him hard one more time, and then sighs before saying, "Then let's do this."_

"_Indeed, darlin'."_

_But as he opens the door for her, they both freeze upon seeing Beatrice and Lemony on one side of the grand staircase, while Esme, Olaf, and Kit were on the other. And upon seeing the poison darts in Esme's fingers, Dusty nearly bolts out the door to charge all of them._

_It was only the fact that Dewey already knew what she'd be thinking of doing that allowed him to catch her around the waist in time. Pulling her back into him, he wraps one hand over her mouth while whispering, "Easy, darlin'. Beatrice can hold her own."_

_Dusty just snaps her head around, out of his grip in the process, and hisses, "That is my sister!"_

_Dewey gives her a look, "Who has darts, same as Esme, thanks to you. And also has better aim than Esme Squalor."_

"_What if she gets hit?"_

"_Esme couldn't hit the broad side of a barn, darlin'. I've read so many reports that testify to that, I'd bet my life on it. Beatrice will be fine." Dusty stares at him hard, until he cups her face in his hands. Kissing her tenderly, he adds softly, "I would not keep you here if I were not sure she would be fine. I know what she means to you. Trust me."_

_And in terms of Beatrice not getting killed by a poison dart, Dewey had been correct. Esme threw her first dart a whole six feet away from Bee's head. There was no need to worry about that._

_But Bee had darts too. So did Lemony, since Bee had given some of them to him. And while Bee probably could've, she never would've actually hit Esme with the dart. She probably meant to throw it and pierce the bottom of the dress or something, showing she was more deadly with the weapon._

_No one could've foreseen Olaf's father stepping out into the hall at the very second. No one could've predicted any of the events that followed. Beatrice and Lemony running with the sugar bowl. Olaf blaming Lemony, the love of Bee's life, for the death of his father. Esme hating Beatrice for all time._

_At this moment though, all Dusty could see was that her sister was shocked, devastated, and near tears. She truly does wish she'd never bought those accursed darts as her present._

_Dewey closes the door once Beatrice is out of sight. Dusty is this close to yelling at him. He'd never held her back before, but if he was going to start now, she was going to show him he had another thing coming._

_Soon as the door is bolted again though, he takes her hand and begins racing through the rafters. And Dusty, with no idea where she's actually going up here in this theatre, simply follows where he drags her. They eventually reach a fire escape, and as Dewey throws open the window, he points to the cab on the ground and says, "Lemony called Jacques. That's his getaway plan."_

_Dusty blinks for a moment in complete befuddlement. Then she asks, "How do you know…"_

"_Oh, Lemony types up everything. Including every plan he's ever come up with in his head about making a speedy getaway if need-be. From the theatre, at this time of the day, he's always planned on calling Jacques." Gesturing to the side door of the building, he adds, "They'll come out there."_

_Dusty nods, and hurries her way through the window. She still has hold of his hand as she begins to try moving down… but he pulls her back gently enough. He hadn't stepped out with her. He couldn't._

_He was a ghost. She'd nearly forgotten, for a moment._

_But when she turned back to him, he saw no contempt there. He'd seen it slightly, when she'd thought he was going to make her hide and stay out of the situation entirely. But he didn't see it now. Only understanding, and a deep thankfulness that he'd gotten her here._

_God, he loves her so much. Reaching for her, he pulls her face back through the open window, kissing her hard once more. Dusty rests her forehead against his when he pulls back, and then says, "I'll come find you later. She's going to need me."_

"_I know."_

_Smiling, Dusty adds on a sigh, "And I love you for knowing."_

_Grinning back at her, Dewey's expression then sombers as he stresses, "Be safe. Please, Dusty."_

"_For you, I will do my best. Promise."_

"_Good."_

_He releases her after that. He watches from the shadows of the window as she meets Lemony and Bee on the street below. Watches as Lemony takes the sugar bowl, gives Bee a farewell kiss, and then takes off with his brother in the taxi._

_Dusty and Bee remain in the street awhile longer. And Dewey can't help grinning at the way Dusty's head keeps going back and forth, scanning the area for danger. She didn't want to still be standing here, but Bee apparently needed more time to wrap her head around everything. Eventually though, they headed back out into the street, probably to find a tunnel and get home._

_Dewey would've left without another thought. Back to his office to wait for a call from Dusty, or for her to just walk in at the middle of the night. Either would've worked for him. But before he stepped away, he saw Olaf's figure creep through the shadows, tailing the two women away from the theatre._

_Bee would be fine. She'd be fine because Dusty was with her, and Dusty would sooner let Olaf break her in half then ever let him touch Beatrice._

_Dusty, on the other hand… if Olaf was alone, she would be fine. But, if he somehow got help…_

_He doesn't go straight home. He goes for the phone in the office in backstage of the theatre. The first number he dials, he lets ring four times before hanging up. The second number rings twice, and then Ernest's voice asks, "Hello?"_

"_It's Dewey."_

"_Good. You know Frank and I aren't exactly…"_

"_Ernest, I know you're not exactly on… well, on the good side of the rift that's forming right now. And don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about. I know damn near everything."_

_A pause, and then Ernest sighs, "Look, I just don't agree…"_

"_I get that. Not what I'm calling about. I know they've been trying to recruit you for heavier things."_

"_How could you possibly know that?!"_

"_Doesn't matter. Listen! I need you… I need you to…"_

_He's not sure what he needs Ernest to do, or how Ernest could help at this point. Finally, panic in his voice that he's not entirely sure is merited yet, he says, "Olaf is following Dusty right now. And he's pissed. I just… if he hurts her, I'll…"_

_And this is why, no matter how often they may, all three of them, disagree… Dewey loves his brothers. Ernest doesn't even let him finish. Hearing Dusty's name had been enough. Cutting Dewey off, he says, "I'll see if I can't follow him. Or at least find where he's going. I have a few ideas right off. I'll make sure they don't get her or her sister."_

"_Thank you, Ernest."_

"_I'll keep you posted."_

_Of course, Dewey wouldn't get another call for another six hours. And it wasn't Ernest calling from up in the hotel to assure him everything was fine. It was Ernest and Frank, calling from the hospital._

_And everything was far from fine._

* * *

_Dusty doesn't want to open her eyes. The entire right side of her face hurts, and she's not sure why. Everything is hazy. What had happened?_

_She remembers Olaf's father died. Lemony took the fall, and was now on the lamb. Beatrice had been devastated, but eventually pulled it together and they'd started heading home. And then…_

_Dusty fists her hands into the sheets beneath her. It had been an hour after they'd entered the tunnels to head home, when Olaf found them. Olaf, and the Beardless Lady and Hairless Man, along with three others._

_In Beatrice's heartbroken state already, Dusty hadn't found it hard to command her to run. Beatrice likely would've followed any instruction Dusty gave at that point, because she simply wasn't capable of keeping it altogether on her own. So when Dusty said for her to run, Beatrice ran._

_Dusty didn't. She stayed back, pulling out a dagger that had been strapped to her thigh. Her intention had been to give her sister a good five- or ten-minute head start. Then she would follow, and for safety reasons, they'd go to the sub-sub-library. Dewey wouldn't mind. He'd keep both of them safe. And certainly, they hadn't meant for him to be introduced to Bee this way… but it wouldn't have been the worst of ways either._

_That didn't happen though. Oh, Dusty got in several good licks. But she was not quite as skilled back then as she is in the present time. Not skilled enough to beat back all six and still come out victorious, bruised or otherwise. She took one stranger down to the ground, before a sort of shock ran through her system, and she collapsed in a heap herself._

_She woke up strapped to a table, in some other unknown room in the tunnels. And that is when the real pain had begun. And Olaf's face… the fascinated and sick grin that became plastered there as the Hairless Man carved into her face. Starting at her jawline and moving down in the slowest and most agonizingly painful way he knew how._

_They asked her where the poison darts came from. They asked where the sugar bowl was being taken. They asked if she had a fortune, and where it was, and demanded she give it to them. When the Hairless Man grew tired, the Bearded Woman took over, still working the grotesque mark into her neck._

_Then they gave Olaf a turn. That was when they knew he'd be perfect for their program. Because Olaf was the one who cut the scar over her eye, slicing into and above her right eyebrow, and then down past her cheek._

_The glare she gave him when he asked about her sister though… it satisfied Dusty to no end, the look of terror that suddenly swelled in him. She spit at him, making sure to get it in his eye, before saying, "Mark my works, Olaf. The day you touch Beatrice will be the day you sign your own death warrant."_

_Olaf had tried to smirk, "And why is that, little Baudelaire? You gonna kill me?"_

_And then he'd visibly trembled when she'd said, "No… but you will wish I'd grant you that mercy by the time I'm done."_

_In spite of his new fear of her though, he would've come back. He would've started to duplicate the scar he'd just given her so that it existed on the left side of her face as well. But at that moment, smoke bombs were thrown into the room with them._

_Dusty, amidst choking and hacking in the now smoke-filled room, could make out Ernest's face behind the gas mask he was wearing. Knowing it was him, reaching for him as soon as he'd cut her hands and legs free, is the only reason they made it out of the room in time. For as soon as Ernest slid back out, the Hairless Man ordered someone to shut the door so no one could get away. It actually hit Ernest in the back of the head, with how quickly it slammed shut behind him._

_But they were out. And then they were running. Dusty wanted to ask him to slow down. Everything hurt now, and she felt like she was going to be sick. But before she'd been able to do that, she passed out in his arms._

_Now…_

_She finally opens her eyes, noting with disgust that her right one will only open partially. The stark white room is almost blinding, and she winces before sighing and trying to look around._

_There are three other people in the room. And to the untrained eye, they all look the same. But not to Dusty. She knows that's it's Ernest pacing by the doorway. She knows it's Frank sitting in a chair against the far wall, biting at his fingernails worriedly while shaking his head as though in disbelief about something._

_And Dusty knows it's Dewey Denouement who has his head resting on the bed next to her stomach. She's apparently been here for a while. Long enough for Dewey to fall asleep before she woke back up. Reaching for one of his hands, Dusty meant only to hold it and squeeze it… give herself something to hold onto, grounding herself in reality._

_Dewey's senses must've been sitting on the edge of a trigger though. Soon as she touched him, his head snapped up from the bed, and his reddened eyes met her tired ones. And it didn't matter that he'd already cried as much as he'd thought humanly possible at this point. The tears welled up again when he saw hers looking back at him._

_The tenderest hands she's ever felt trace over her hair as he whispers her name. That's literally all he says as he presses desperate kisses to what parts of her face aren't bandaged. When he finally leans back to just look at her again, Dusty tries to ask him a question. But trying to force the words out of her swollen and sore throat was like trying to shove a square shaped object through a circular opening. Her eyes clenched in pain as the words refused to come forward._

_Dewey brushed back her hair while whispering gently, "Don't try to talk right now, darlin'. You might hurt yourself more than you already are." Dusty knew he was right, but there were things she had to know. Things she needed answers to, before she could just continue to lay her uselessly._

_In spite of all her pain, it warmed her all the way to her toes when Dewey began answering them for her… all without her having to speak aloud. He knew her mind so well. Knew what she wanted and why._

_Still brushing back her hair, he wiped at his eyes for a moment to clear away the tears. Then he settled himself on the edge of the bed, continuing to stare down into her beautiful, albeit bandaged face. And then he started. "Jacques is taking Lemony to an undisclosed location for now. He will be safe, and far from Olaf's reach."_

_Gesturing back to Frank, he says, "As soon as I got off the phone with Ernest to ask that he search for you, I called Frank to ask that he wait at your house for the both of you. If you'd shown up too, I would've called Ernest back to tell him everything was fine. But you didn't show… Beatrice arrived all by herself." He presses a kiss to her forehead, pulling in a tired and ragged breath before adding, "She's been taken to the Hotel Denouement for her safety. One of the lower levels that not even Olaf or the Snickets know about yet. Frank called her an hour ago with an update on your progress. The only person who's disturbed her at all is the maid that we keep to work on that level in specific. She's safe. I promise."_

_Dusty nods slightly, and then reaches up to cup his face in her left hand. He smiles gently at the touch, and then turns in to kiss her wrist before saying, "I will be fine once we're certain you'll be fine. You've been asleep for three days." At the widening of her eyes, Dewey pleads, "Please don't try to sit up. I… you…"_

_He struggles for the words, and then simply kisses the inside of her palm in a desperate way before saying, "Moving too much might tear something back open. I… I can't…" Back to her eyes, his still red ones meeting hers again, he says in a whisper, "Please rest for now. We're doing all we can to find Olaf and make him pay. Ernest told me enough of what he saw before he got you out. We're trying, Dusty. And I know you'll want to help. I know you're probably going to be the best at helping with this. But just for now… I need you to be okay. I need you here, so I can make sure you go back to being okay."_

_He touches the unmarked left side of her neck, the back of his knuckles brushing against there gently. Then he shakes his head, "And I know you might think you already are… but you are not okay. Not yet. So please…"_

_She grips his chin gently, pulling him down closer. And because he'd asked her not to move, she pulls him down to her all the way, until his lips lightly meet hers in a kiss. Slipping her fingers to the hair at the back of his head, she runs them through it gently, and then lets him go. Then she places one more peck on his lips, before offering him a gentle, if not still pained, smile._

_And he did know her so well. Enough to know that, though she might still not be happy about having to lay her a while longer… she would do that for him. For his sanity. Sighing in relief, he drops his head to rest on her shoulder, gripping her left hand in his. His fingers play idly with the ring on her hand as he holds it to his chest, and then he whispers, "I love you. I love you so much, Dusty. He will pay for this."_

_Dusty knows, even after he'd leaned away so his brothers could see her as well. She knew even after he left for the night, promising to come back within no more than an hour, that Dewey thought he meant it. Dewey was a doer, in his own way. His capacity for research was far beyond anyone else's in VFD. If someone was going to find Olaf, locate him to try and make him pay, it would be Dewey._

_But Dusty also knows that VFD has no stomach for the kind of violence it would take to actually put a stop to him. They don't believe, the way she and Dewey did, that sometimes fire did have to be fought with more fire. Dewey would hunt for him. Ernest and Frank would probably help him. And what Olaf had done would enrage VFD in it's entirety. But when it came to dealing with him?_

_Dusty knows, laying here in this bed, that it's not going to happen. Not from within VFD. Not when they didn't understand that sometimes when you wanted to stop a fire, you had to be willing to burn and be burned in turn._

_That's when the head of her unnamed organization came to her with an offer. That's when the wheels began turning for this new plan, this new life that she could make for herself. Beatrice would always be in danger, if VFD were the ones left to deal with Count Olaf and others like him. Lemony would forever be hunted. Even Dewey, invisible as he was, would never be safe if someone better… someone harder didn't try to do something preemptively against the evil forces they were up against._

_Someone like her._

* * *

_Beatrice couldn't quite wrap her head around the idea. Dusty had explained it several times at this point… but Beatrice just couldn't fathom what Dusty was about to do._

_Well… she could fathom it. Dusty had always been a fighter. And the last time she'd tried to help them save people from an actual fire, the child she'd reached for had screamed and actually run further towards the flames. Which meant, within their organization, Dusty would be stuck researching, fact finding. Noble works, she agreed whole-heartedly. But not work she was meant to do. Not work she could be happy doing for the rest of her life._

_Which is why Dusty planned to disappear. There was some other organization, some place similar to VFD, but more Dusty's speed. A group willing to make, as Dusty called them, harder choices than any VFD was willing to even think about._

_Beatrice had argued that everyone in VFD was on board with the idea that something had to be done about Count Olaf. But Dusty wasn't referring to that anymore. Yes, Olaf was a problem. Perhaps bigger than either of them realized at the time. But what about the others? People like him, who only lived for wreaking havoc and destroying the lives of others. What would VFD be willing to do about those people? Were they capable of planning to beat them before they could actually do any harm? Were they capable of contemplating taking them out of the equation altogether, if that's what it would really take to save as many lives as possible?_

_Dusty knows they can't… and Beatrice is willing to admit that she wasn't sure if they could or not._

_One thing about all of this that Beatrice did think she understood, was why Dusty had chosen her as the one person to know what she was doing. That was the rule. Dusty could tell one person, and Dusty had chosen her. Because Beatrice was her sister, and the only living relative in the family that Dusty had left._

_Beatrice never knew just how hard that decision was. Because Beatrice didn't know about Dewey, or that Dusty was engaged to him. Beatrice didn't know that, while she thought her own heart was breaking over the idea of almost never seeing her sister again, Dusty's was splitting in two over the idea that she would never see Dewey again._

_But Beatrice had already lost so much. First their parents. Now Lemony. She'd tried to find him for weeks after he'd disappeared, but Lemony was too clever. He would only reappear when he wanted to reappear, and no one would find him before then. Certainly, a few authority figures might be able to spot him from time to time. But by the time they'd actually get around to trying to catch him, Lemony would be long gone… long before VFD could try to get to him either._

_Beatrice didn't have anyone left except Dusty. At least, at that point in time, she hadn't had anyone else. She couldn't lose Dusty too. And while Dewey was a ghost, invisible to the world above his library… Dewey wasn't alone. He had his brothers. He even had Larry, though Dusty rarely actually saw that man down in the library._

_Dewey wouldn't be left to suffer her loss alone. He would get over her, with time. He would move on, with the help of his brothers and the few friends he had. But Beatrice… she would not have anyone._

_Which is why Dusty told her what was happening… prior to planning the explosion that blew up the apartment complex she'd been living in. Authorities would report that the heat had become so terrible, no one could've survived. Bodies would be brought out and declared unrecognizable. There would be no way of identifying her. There would be no way anyone could figure out that the bodies pulled from the rubble had all been borrowed from a morgue two states over._

_Everything of Dusty's would be gone. Everything from her old life stripped away, and a new life in the shadows presented to her. Her only connection to the world of the living would be Beatrice, whom she would be allowed to see from time to time. But everything else that she'd owned was to be destroyed and forgotten about. And Dusty had agreed to those terms… save one thing._

_The ring on her left hand. A ring specially designed for her by the only man she would ever love. A ring she'd worn, hidden beneath her training uniforms, on a necklace chain for years after she'd been declared 'dead'. A ring that was worn on her left hand on every assignment since she'd graduated to field work._

_A ring that had never been found in the rubble. A ring that she swore to never take off her finger again… even if she'd never actually wear it in a wedding._

* * *

Dusty was staring at the remnants of the phone on the floor. The others were right, she had thrown it against a hard surface. Soon as she'd heard his voice, panic took over again, and she chucked it across the room and into the wall, where it shattered to pieces.

He knew. God help her, he knew. He knew she was still alive; had been alive these past twenty years. He knew she'd left him to become a ghost of her own, to do what she'd truly been born to do. Fight fire with fire, in the way that would save the most lives, in the way they'd agreed was always best.

Dewey Denouement knew. And Dusty can feel her hands shaking again at the thought. Her entire body shook with both anger and fear… fear outweighing her anger at the moment. Her anger was directed at Jackie. She should've never confirmed that first day, in the remains of the Baudelaire mansion, that she really was Dusty. She should've just left Jackie to speculate, to wonder, and then hopefully forget that she'd ever thought Dusty was still alive. That would've been the thing to do. Then none of this would've…

She and Sam both turn their heads towards the phone on his desk when it rings. Turning towards Dusty, Sam asks, "What do you want me to do?"

Dusty shrugs after a moment, and then sighs before pinching the bridge of her nose. She was getting a headache. It was entirely too early to be dealing with this much crap. But then she gestures to the phone and says, "Just answer it. And hang up."

And Sam would've. He lifted the phone to his ear, had his statement of dismissal on the tip of his tongue, and would've hung back up immediately. He also would've called back later, after Dusty had returned to bed, to try and figure out what the hell Jackie had been thinking. But for now, he would've done exactly as Dusty told him.

But the voice on the phone didn't give him a chance to answer. The voice on the phone, which sounded a great deal wiser than any of the others he'd heard so far, apparently knew it was him already, because he said, "Put her on the phone."

Sam glances at Dusty, "Um… she's…"

"Samson? This is Dewey Denouement. Put my former fiancée on the phone. Or, at the very least, put me on speaker so she can hear me. Either will do."

Sam blinks in confusion, but then hits the speaker button. Dusty gives him a look, but he raises his hands in a helpless gesture before saying, "Um… you're on speaker. Listen, she's…"

Dusty clenched her eyes shut and turned away when Dewey's voice said, "Hello, darlin'."

Dusty thought she knew how this would go. He'd speak softly and sweetly to her. He'd say all the right words to try and convince her he wasn't angry. And maybe he wasn't as angry as he had been when he first figured it out. She doesn't know when he was told, so that was possible, she supposes. But she knew he couldn't be completely happy about any of this. And that's what he was going to make it sound like. He was going to lie about only being happy she was still alive, and then if she actually showed up, he would…

She doesn't get to think about what he would actually do after all the sweet words he would say right now. Because sweet words don't come. Her head snaps back around, eyes opening to stare at the phone when Dewey instead says, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Sam blinks in shock, and then his mouth drops open when Dewey says, "We have a chance, perhaps the only one we'll finally ever get again, to put Olaf behind bars. Permanently. For that to happen though, we need to children to testify about everything they've gone through. Consequently, we need you here as well, to make sure no one else does something stupid, like try and help him escape. We need you here to protect the children, and to ensure that any side-fires Olaf might have planned are put out before they can really get going."

And now there was anger in his voice when he adds, "This is our chance to put the worst fire-starter of them all in a place where he can't play with fire every again. And you, in your currently dwindling wisdom, think you get to just stay out of it? What the actual hell is wrong with you?"

Dusty can't answer him. She just stares at the phone in disbelief. And then her eyes widen when Dewey says, "The trial is day after tomorrow. You will be here for that. You will bring the children, all of them, so we can see this done once and for all." And she thinks he must be saying the next part through his teeth when he adds, "And if you don't show up here to help make that happen, then I really won't forgive you. So get your ass here. Now."

And before either she or Sam could say a word in response, the line went dead.

Back in the hotel, everyone is staring in shock as Dewey puts the phone back down, and then rolls up his shirt sleeves. Sighing, he says, "We have work to do if we want to be ready to keep Olaf here through tomorrow. We have to secure the room he'll be put in. I suggest one on the lower levels. There are no windows to bar, and we can each take a watch. I also suggest that at least three people be on the door at all times."

Frank and Ernest, the least shocked at this point, nod and rise to start getting to work. Jackie is still staring as all three of them begin making their way out of the room.

They're in the hall before she moves to follow them, and they all turn back when she asks, "What did you do?! She's never going to…"

Dewey simply gives her a look, "You gave her a panic attack. I told you from the beginning, that would not work."

"But…"

"Jackie, and I say this with all the love in the world. But you do not understand her. Not all of her. Not the way I do."

"Dewey… she's not the same."

Dewey just smiles a little and shakes his head, "Yes, she is. She's always been this way. Always been capable of making harder decisions than anyone else in our group. But none of you ever truly saw it. She never fully opened up and showed it to all of you."

Looking back to his brothers, both of who smile in understanding, Dewey says, "But she did show it to me."

Back to Jackie, and the others standing there now as well, he adds, "I know how to handle her. I know, more than any of you, how she thinks and operates." Then he shrugs, "I said what she needed to hear for the moment. She will be here."

Larry tilts his head, and then points to Kit when she says, "You told her you wouldn't forgive her. That's what Sam said she was most afraid of. Why is that going to convince her to get here?"

Dewey turns back to his brothers, all three beginning to head off again. But over his shoulder, he answers, "Because I've narrowed the scope on what I won't forgive her for. She still might think it's possible I won't forgive her for leaving in the first place. I don't deny that. She's probably still thinking it in the back of her head right now."

In the elevator, waiting for the doors to close, he adds, "But she knows now, as a certainty, that I will not forgive her if she doesn't show up for this trial. And that certainty outweighs what she thinks might be probable. She'll be here. I suggest we get ready."

And in the bottom level of her home, Dusty is leaning against Sam's desk, staring at the phone. Her thoughts concerning the issue were very much as Dewey expected. She did still think it was possible, and most probable, that he wouldn't forgive her for what she'd done so long ago.

But he was also right in knowing that she found his ultimatum about not showing up even more frightening. He'd told her outright she wouldn't be forgiven for that. And now, every time she thought about even considering not showing up with the children, her heart clenched tightly in her chest.

Even after twenty years apart, he knew her too well. Enough to know how to force her to appear. And as Dusty thinks on it more… she realizes he knew, even at this very moment, how her mind was processing this situation.

Pissed as she was at basically being forced into this at this point, Sam saw the tiniest of grins slightly force the left side of her mouth to quirk up as she said, "Damn him."

Watching as she'd walked away, he asks, "What are you going to do?"

She stops at the bottom step, and then raises an eyebrow at him before saying, "What does it look like? I'm going to pack. We have a trial to get to. And you'd better start packing up whatever you think you might need as well. You're coming too."

"Me?!"

"Yes, you."

"Why?!"

Though she's at the top step now, he can still hear her when she says, "Because this is Olaf we're dealing with. And in order to make sure he never gets away again, we're going to need every trick we can pull out of the book. And you, my brilliant friend, are a trick he isn't smart enough to see coming. Pack. And then get your ass up here. We've got work to do."

* * *

Chapter 7! Hopefully chapter 8 won't take long to come together. Stay tuned! :D


	9. The Surprisingly Happy Reunion

Disclaimer: "I do not own 'A Series of Unfortunate Events'. Not the books, not the movie, not the TV series... none of it. I own Dusty, and any original content I make her do or say or add to this story. That is all."

* * *

Chapter 8: The Surprisingly Happy Reunion

No one would see her when they arrived for the trial. No one would see her before the trial began. No one would see her during the trial. And depending on how the trial went down, no one would see her immediately after.

That was Dusty's plan anyway. Dewey would want to see her. He'd probably demand it if she gave him a choice about it right now. But she wasn't about to do that. She didn't give any of VFD the option to tell her what they thought the best thing to do would be at this point. They may have grown. They may have, in fact, grown more in the past few months than they had in all the years prior, when they'd thought she was dead.

Didn't change the fact that it took all of them months to get the children back and out of Olaf's hands. Granted, it took Dusty that long as well. But the fact remained that the children would've been saved a long time ago, if VFD had made smarter choices. Her own trouble with getting to them came from constantly being one step behind. It took them time, too much in her opinion, to finally gain enough speed to catch up to them and then convince them to come with her.

Bottom line, at the end of the day, was that Dusty was more prepared to do what was necessary to keep the children safe. VFD, while they may have an idea now, was not. So when Sam arrived at the hotel, greeted by Ernest and Frank, Dusty was not with him. The children, all six of them, were there with Sam. But Dusty was not.

Sam was the one who explained that, for reasons of their own, Dusty would remain as she always had these past twenty some years. She would be a shadow, a phantom, until the trial was over. She would be there, but they would not see her until she was satisfied that Olaf was gone, that he was not getting away, and that the children would be, once and for all, safe and out of his reach.

Ernest and Frank didn't seem altogether pleased by that, but they didn't argue with it. Dusty found that suspicious from her hiding place on the rooftop above. But, after a moment of thought, she realized Dewey would've probably suspected something like this. Ernest and Frank were obviously braced for her to not be there, because he'd told them it was very possible that she wouldn't be.

He knew her too well. Granted, he hadn't guessed that she wasn't really dead. He may have suspected for a short time in the beginning, but not for this long. He would've expected her to come back to him by now. Long before now.

Perhaps he'll let her explain, if she could've kept him in her life, that she would've. If it had been allowed, if she'd been able to make the organization she was going to work for bend on that one rule, then she would've. But Bee had needed her. Not necessarily more than he would've also needed her. But Bee was the one who would've been left, almost entirely, alone. That couldn't be allowed to happen.

Maybe he'd eventually come to understand that. Maybe he could still love her, in spite of this egregious decision she'd made. Maybe they could…

She fingers the ring that hides beneath the glove on her left hand. Then she grits her teeth at herself and hunkers down to watch as the children and Sam enter the building. She was not about to get lost in thoughts of hopeful reunions. She was not going to allow her mind to drift to what might've been if she'd stayed, or what might still be if Dewey was willing to forgive her. She didn't have time for such foolish, albeit warm, thoughts.

The children were the priority, as they had been from the start of this assignment. Sam, after initially getting inside, declared that since Olaf would be on the floor beneath the hotel, Dusty wanted the children on the floor at the very top. She wanted as much distance between the man and the kids as possible.

Ernest and Frank, again thanks to Dewey, seemed to have expected this as well. The entire top floor was vacant as a result, and the children were allowed to stay in whichever rooms they wished.

In Dusty's home, each one of them had their own room that was growing to look more like theirs every day. Personal touches, such as posters, books, tools for building… Dusty had even helped make modifications in Sunny's room so a tiny version of a kitchen could be included, so she didn't have to leave to practice her cooking if she didn't want to. But here, the children wanted to be as close together as possible. They took over the honeymoon suite as a result, and Ernest and Frank even helped them pull beds from other rooms into that one so they could each still have their own bed if they wanted.

Sam took a room to himself, directly across the hall from the honeymoon suite. And the entire rest of the day, he went about the entire hotel, setting up more cameras then the ones already in place. He asked where the trial would be held, and how many cameras were already on it. He added cameras to every single floor, including the lower level. He put one in the children's room, just in the main part so he could record if someone went in or went out. Not that he needed that since he had a sensor on the door handle and on the table directly by the door. Anytime someone passed the table or touched the handle, his system would alert him. And if it was just the children, that was fine. If not…

Dusty ducks into a janitor's closet for a moment, touching the piece in her ear before asking, "We good?"

Sam sighs, "First of all, I'm changing my name again."

"Finally. I was getting tired of calling you Hulk. What's it now?"

"I am Batman."

Dusty just smirks while shaking her head. "Alright, Batman. We good?"

"I've wired the place up to an overly extensive level. Olaf, if he even tries to run around in this building and hide somewhere, won't be able to actually get anywhere unseen. The children are safe and in their room. Pretty sure Sunny is kicking everybody's butt in some version of poker."

Dusty smiles, "Good girl. Thanks, Sam."

"Sure. Where are you staying?"

"I'll find a place. Somewhere no one else will figure I'll be."

"If you actually sleep in the ducts of the ceiling, I'll find a way to hurt you."

"Not likely. Nice try though."

"Whatever. Just… please get some sleep."

"I make no promises about getting a lot of sleep. But I will sleep. Happy?"

"Mildly. See you tomorrow, Pixie."

"Sure thing, Batman."

As she hears the click that signals he's signed off for now, Dusty sighs and then peeks out the door. Staying close to the children was best. But someone would probably try to sneak into some of the rooms to try and find her. She actually suspects Jackie, more than she does Dewey, of being willing to do that.

She could go to a lower level herself. Being close to Olaf wasn't ideal, but it would mean she could ensure he stayed where he was meant to stay, until tomorrow's trial. But going down there, with whatever maid was assigned to ensure he didn't leave, would also ensure that Dewey, Ernest, and Frank figured out she was definitely on the premises. Not that they didn't already know she was there… but they didn't know where yet. She needs it to stay that way, until Olaf is gone for good.

In the end, Dusty returns to the roof. She climbs on top of the ceiling built over where the elevator is allowed to come up. Resting there, staring up at the stars, she wills her breathing to relax, her heart to calm, and for sleep to finally take her. Tomorrow would be a long day. She needed at least a few hours of sleep before that happened.

* * *

An hour after she was finally out, Frank climbed up a ladder he'd brought with him, checking to see if she was there, as his brother suspected. Finding her there, one hand behind her head, still completely decked out in black, he feels a tear fall from his own eye, before he climbs back down and heads back to the lobby.

Dewey and Ernest were waiting there. Soon as he comes up to the counter, Dewey knows he was right. Dusty was on the roof.

He'd obviously known she would be here at the hotel already, of course. If the children were here, then so was Dusty. But it was nice to have it confirmed.

Frank watches Dewey closely for a moment, and then asks, "Dewey… why didn't you want to go see for yourself?"

Dewey just shakes his head, "When I see her again… the first time I see her again…" He pauses, and then just shakes his head again. "I'm not going to be able to let her go. I'm not just going to be able to look at her, like you can. I…"

He was definitely well past being angry. She was still in trouble. She'd need to explain herself, even if he had a vague idea about why she might've not told him about all of this for so long. Jackie had explained much, including the fact that Beatrice was the only one who knew Dusty wasn't dead.

Still, at this point, Dewey wasn't about to simply let her off the hook without demanding some sort of explanation. She would be forced to explain why she'd done what she'd done. Even if he already knew. That was going to be her punishment, he'd decided. He would make her explain it to him.

That being said… when he did first see her again… well, he might not get straight to her punishment. It really would depend on her reaction to first seeing him again. That would be when he truly decided what his next course of action would be. Still, even knowing that, twenty years was a long time to wait for the person you love to come back to you. Even longer when you'd eventually resigned yourself to being alone forever, because you didn't think they ever would come back to you.

Looking up at his brothers, Dewey just shrugs helplessly. "I won't be able to just walk away from her, or to let her walk away from me. I'm going to have to hold her."

Ernest nods, and then puts a hand on Dewey's shoulder before asking, "So what now?"

"Now we put on Olaf's trial. We make sure that, no matter what else happens, he gets put away. And we make damn sure that absolutely nothing happens to endanger the children."

Frank asks, "And what about Dusty?"

Dewey just smiles slightly to himself. "Leave her to me. She's got her friend Sam watching everything with the system he set up today. I'll find her tomorrow, during the trial, and eventually we'll figure out where to go from there. Just leave her to me."

* * *

As Poe came to get the children next morning, handing them blindfolds to wear, Dusty couldn't help the ugly frown she sent the man's way. Even if he wouldn't have seen it anyway, given that her face was almost completely covered.

Stupid, ignorant, foolish man. After Olaf was taken care of, she'd get Sam to see about figuring out a way to make sure Poe could never be in charge of handing the affairs of orphans ever again. Because surely, even an actual blind man could've seen that Olaf was a bad choice of guardian for the Baudelaire's.

When they come out of the room, Klaus originally reaches for Poe's hand, and they make it about three steps down the hall before he runs them into something. Wearing blindfolds while trying to get around in this hotel? Who the hell came up with that? The only people who could manage that at all would be the three Denouements that ran it, and herself. Because even after all this time, she still knew this building like the back of her hand.

When Klaus reaches out again, all five others following behind him in a wary line, he breathes a sigh of relief when he feels a gloved hand slip into his, rather than Poe's cold one. From then on, Poe ran into everything under the sun, and then some. But the children followed with ease, knowing Dusty was the one guiding them to where they were meant to go.

She didn't get in the elevator with them. She simply bent down to kiss Sunny on the head before whispering, "I am watching, children. Nothing will get past me or Sam. You are safe. Whatever else may happen, hold onto that."

All six nod, and then follow Poe into the elevator.

She heads up to the fifth floor, which is halfway up the nine-floor building. Her vantage point from there would be best for two reasons. The first being that she wasn't so far up that she couldn't still see everyone and everything in the lobby below. The second was that if she had to throw a blade, shoot an arrow, or do anything from up here intended for someone down there, she'd be up high enough that they wouldn't guess where the assailant was or where the object had come from.

All six children are seated on the front row, and then, as soon as they're all sitting down, are told to take off their blindfolds.

Shaking her head, Dusty can't help muttering, "So stupid."

In her earpiece, Sam… or Batman, answers, "Agreed. Are we sure we like this judge?"

"Violet says she's a book lover who gave them solace while in Olaf's original care. She's not exactly the brightest… but she has a good heart. So we like her… we just don't completely trust her. Where are these other two judges that she's mentioned?"

"Working on that. They're on a floor high up, but their seats are very encasing. I'm having a hard time getting a visual." At Dusty's sigh, he adds, "I know, I know. As many cameras as I put in this place, how is that even possible? Which, if I may say, should concern us."

"How so?"

"I think the chairs were strategically placed so the cameras wouldn't have visuals of the people inside."

Frowning, Dusty asks, "How would that even be possible? You did it, literally, only a day ago. They're well hidden, I saw that for myself. Had a hard time finding even half of them on my own."

"Thank you for that."

"Thank me later. Find out how they might've known about the cameras. Who could've told them, or how they might have, by some stroke of bad luck, seen them and known what do to."

A pause, and then Batman says, "Actually… I mean, Frank and Ernest knew I was setting them up. And if they did, by some chance, tell Justice Strauss…"

Dusty closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose through her mask, "Then she probably told the other Justices about them, not really thinking it'd be a problem."

"Affirmative. And while I'm on a roll, let me go ahead and throw out there that, if VFD has trusted her with any information in the past. Anything pertaining to the children or their whereabouts. Hell, if she managed to figure things out about the kids on her own, and then she relayed it to other people without thinking…"

Dusty opens her eyes, glaring at the woman on the stand. Sweet as she was, this was still annoying to say the least. And it was definitely… in fact it was probably… the explanation behind the mole that had suddenly appeared within VFD. Nodding to herself, Dusty affirms aloud, "Then she's probably been the reason Olaf managed to stay ahead of us for a while there."

Sam lets the silence linger for a second, and then asks, "I'm at your disposal, as always, Pixie. Just tell me the plan."

Dusty smiles at that, and then takes a breath before continuing. "Plan stays the same. Strauss is a nuisance, but she's still got a good heart. We can deal with whipping her into shape later. Right now, do what you have to, my Winged-Crusader. Get me visual on these other justices. But don't, not even for a second, take your eyes completely off the children."

"Roger. I'll let you know when I have something."

Sighing, Dusty glances down at the children, three of whom are now sitting next to the podium. As their story begins spilling forth, she watches the faces of the rest of VFD in the crowd. Some grow shocked, not having known any of what the Baudelaire's went through. Others put hands over their mouths, shaking their heads at themselves. They'd known some… but not all.

Jackie and Larry, nearer the front of the crowd, were paying attention to the trial. But she also saw them looking around every now and then. Looking for her.

They would not find her. Nor would Frank or Ernest, as she could see them glancing up and down, from side to side, trying to locate her in their massive hotel. But she was a dark shadow behind the pillars of this structure. She was a phantom in their midst. She was not VFD anymore. She was something else entirely. Something more. Not a single person down there would be able to find her up…

"Hello, darlin'."

Her heart stopped beating for a few seconds at that sound. Through the static of a telephone line, his voice was not done justice. But right here, in her ear? Oh, dear God.

Dewey watches her hand on the pillar next to her ball into a tight fist. She did not move other than that or make a sound. She'd locked down, and that was fine. He'd give her the minute she needed to get over the fact that he'd found her. And he honestly hoped his finding her wasn't something she considered a failure. The people on the ground couldn't have gone looking for her. They weren't ghosts the way he was.

Even so… the people on the ground wouldn't have found her, even if they had been allowed to look. He was the only one who knew her so well. The only one who had spent enough time with her to know what floor she'd find the most advantageous. The only one who knew at what height she would still consider herself an incredibly accurate shot.

Only him.

When she finally turns to look over her shoulder at him, he can't help staring into those beautiful green eyes. Granted, that was the only part of her not covered. The only part he was actually capable of seeing at this point. But he knew them. God, how he knew them.

Jackie had told him that Dusty had said, when she'd first seen her again, that Dusty had known she had to stay away from her, and from him. That somehow the two of them were the ones she'd known would figure out it was her, if she ever got too close again. Oh, how right she was on that point. All he needed was her eyes. The scar over her right one certainly would've helped, if he'd needed more.

But her eyes, the gleam that rested there. More than just a spark of curiosity, as he'd known so long ago. Fire, bright and beautiful and burning in those green irises. Oh, that would be a thing he would never forget. Even if he hadn't ever seen her again, he would've gone to his grave with a vision in his head of that same fire burning in her eyes.

He gives her another minute, gauging whether or not she'd try to run away from him at this point, or if she'd stay. The children needing her to be here was helping him on that point, he knew. He was counting on her ability to remember that she was on a mission here to keep her in place.

When it finally looked like she had settled on not moving anywhere, Dewey raises an eyebrow. "You have a lot of explaining to do, darlin'. We need to talk. Now."

Dusty blinks, and from behind her mask, says, "I… no."

Dewey narrows his eyes, "Yes."

"I… Dewey, I can't. Not… not right now. The children… I have to watch the children."

"Your dear friend Sam can't do that on his own for a little while? The trial will last a long time. And I suspect that if something actually does begin to look dangerous, he has a way of contacting you fast enough that it won't make a difference."

Dusty prepares to argue, but then Sam says in her ear, "He has a point. I'm all kinds of on top of this."

Rolling her eyes, she touches her ear, "Not helping."

Dewey simply smirks, "See. Now, come…"

Pulling away from him, hating the hurt look that comes across his face before he masks it, she says, "No. We can talk here, if we have to."

"Darlin', I'm afraid we can't."

"And why not?"

"Because one of us, and I'm not sure which at this moment, but one of us is liable to start yelling at the other. And that would disrupt the court, send everything into a tailspin, and possibly keep Olaf from going to prison." Raising an eyebrow again, he asks, "Do you want that?"

Her beautiful eyes narrow in fury before she hisses out, "Of course not!"

"Good. Then come."

And he just starts walking away. Dusty stares after him for a moment, and then curses under her breath before jogging lightly to catch up with his longer strides. Touching her ear again, ignoring Dewey's hand that tries to guide her gently into the room he's chosen, she says, "Batman?"

"Reading loud and clear."

"A few things. Firstly…"

"Don't take my eyes off the children. I have that covered. And everything else covered. I'm working on an angle for these Justices. I'll let you know when I have it, and I won't wait for your conversation to be over, if I happen to get it before you're done in there." He pauses, and then adds gently, "Everything will be fine. I was letting you down before, while we were trying to find them. I won't do that again. I've got this."

Dusty stays quiet for a moment. Then she adds shakily, "One more thing then?"

"What's that?"

"Cut the mike off on my end. I'd… just like some privacy. Cut back on as soon as anything changes. But for now…"

"I got it, Pixie. Talk to you later."

The silence that enters her ear is practically deafening. As is the silence in the room. Lowering her hand from her ear, she watches as it trembles on the way back to her side.

Damn it. He hadn't even yelled at her yet, and she was shaking like a leaf.

And now he was just standing there, waiting. For what, she's not sure. But…

She realizes with a stunning sort of clarity that if he just told her what he wanted, she'd give it to him. Anything, literally anything. To have him hold her again. To have him love her again. To simply have him be her friend again. She'd do anything. He already knew she was alive and well, in spite of the lie she'd created that told the world otherwise. There was no going back to a time when he didn't.

Now all there was to do was mend whatever she could. Love was probably out of the picture. He was angry, he had to be. But maybe, with time, he'd be her friend again. Could she live with that? It would hurt probably, that was for sure. But… maybe she could live with that. Maybe she could…

"Darlin', it says an awful lot that, even covered up as you are, I can see how fast the gears are turning in your head."

Dusty snaps her gaze back to his, watching as he walks further into the room. He was so calm. He didn't look tense, or even angry. She wasn't sure what to make of this.

Raising an eyebrow, he says with a slight smirk, "Okay. How about I start by suggesting you take off the ridiculous headdress you have on?"

Blinking, Dusty answers, "It's not ridiculous. I… it keeps my identity hidden."

"Yes, it does do that. But since I already know who you are, and I'm the only one in the room, it ceases serving its' purpose, and is therefore ridiculous. So… take it off, please."

She stays still for one moment more. Then, slowly because her hands are still shaking, she unwraps her head and face.

Dewey's eyes drift briefly to the hair on her head. Gone was the long hair that was simply all black. Now it was all short, and the bangs she had that slanted towards her right eyebrow were new. It spiked up a little on her head in areas, and all the tips were a deep red.

It somehow suited her better, was his first thought. The second thought he had was that it simply gave him easier access to her tender throat.

Dusty notes the tension that surfaces in his neck for a moment, before he forced it to relax. Perhaps that was all he needed to truly find his rage again. He just needed to actually see her face, which was obviously the subject of his anger.

He was going to start yelling. Any second now, he was going to rip her a new one. And she deserved it. A hundred times over. And she'd stand there and take it. She'd probably end up crying, but she'd try to wait until he was finished at least.

Instead, he simply sat down on the end of the bed. Crossing one leg over the other, he waves at her gently with one hand. Gently… the way he used to when they'd first met. When she'd had an opinion and was thinking about keeping it to herself, but that gentle hand had told her silently that he welcomed whatever she had to say. That's what he was doing now, before he asks, "Well?"

Blinking, Dusty swallows past the lump in her throat and asks, "Well, what?"

He simply raises an eyebrow again, "I said you have a great deal of explaining to do. I meant that. Why did you leave? Who hired you to become the 'Phantom Pixie'?" He pauses, and then adds in what she considers to be his first show of any anger at all, "Why the hell did you make it look like you were dead, abandoning me? And why was Beatrice the only soul you ever told about you still being alive?"

Then he shrugs and adds, "A few questions to start you off with. But please, feel free to add whatever details you like as they come up."

She stares at him for a long while. So long, she wonders why he doesn't ask her to hurry up and get on with it. Surely, he had words of his own that he wanted to scream at her. But apparently, he wanted this first.

And… well, if that's what he wanted.

Dusty started with the explanation of why she'd left VFD. Not just because she was no longer a person people looked to for help when trying to escape a fire. She'd left because she could see that VFD was incapable of surviving the turmoil that was about to follow. Anti-VFD had only needed one really large spark to truly set them on a path of destruction. They'd found that spark in Count Olaf. And if someone didn't do something…

Then she explained about Beatrice. How the organization, which was still nameless, had found her after what Olaf and his new parental figures had done to her. Granted, that same organization was now non-existent. She and Sam had been the cornerstones that had kept it alive, and after they'd left… well, it was as Sam had said. What could they really even do without the two of them? Nonetheless, she told him about who they were, which in her mind, was simply a more assertive version of VFD. Smarts and intellect were things to value, yes, but so was the ability to make harder choices. She told him how they'd seen her potential to fight fire with fire, if she were properly trained. And if she could follow their rules about having to become a ghost herself.

She was allowed one person. And while she would've preferred it to be him, she'd known Beatrice would've been left entirely alone if she'd made that her choice.

She tells him about the close eye she kept on VFD. She'd been given other assignments that had nothing to do with the Anti-VFD organization as well. But her thoughts were always with them, and on how she could protect them from their own blind ignorance. Dewey's eyes actually do widen in surprise when she tells him some of the stories of the people she'd stopped from harming them. Names that were slightly familiar because they'd passed into his library for safe keeping. Names that they'd suddenly never had to worry about again, because Dusty had found them first and put a stop to them before they became a real threat.

She's not sure how long she goes on talking. But she realizes, nearer the end of her rant, that Dewey had never been talking about himself when he'd said it was possible one of them would start yelling. He'd been talking about her. And she was. She was pacing back and forth in front of him, not simply explaining things to him anymore, but shouting at him as she tried to defend her position on this.

There was no defense good enough for what she'd done to him. She knew that. She would forever know that. But she had gone down the path where she could do the most good, and damn it, she wasn't going to apologize for that part of it. She'd apologize seven-ways-to-Sunday for abandoning him if he wanted that. But she was not sorry for leaving VFD altogether.

Rolling her eyes now, she adds, "And Jackie… dear God, bless her soul. Worrying about some damn book getting to the children, when what needs to happen is for them to be snatched from Olaf and into some safe location. And Jacques! What the actual fucking hell was he thinking?! Leaving the children there because Larry couldn't handle frost bite for another five minutes! Taking ten to argue with the worst child to ever be brought into existence! But he couldn't collect the kids before taking Larry to the hospital! The whole thing could've ended right there! And then he almost dies because he's stupid enough to try and give Olaf a second chance!"

Dewey does intervene here, his voice adding in gently, "Giving people second chances is a good thing sometimes."

Dusty glares at him, and then snaps her eyes away to try and rein it in. She didn't have the right to be mad at him. That was not her right anymore. Glaring at the wall instead, she says through her teeth, "Not when the son of a bitch doesn't care to take it. Not when we should already be aware that he is past the point of being saved. Because he doesn't want to be saved. He likes the way he is, will die the way he is, and doesn't give a rat's ass about whether or not we give a damn about him anymore."

Silence reigns over them for a moment after that. Dusty's out of things to say. She was simply waiting for the other shoe to drop now. For him to finally have his turn. He wouldn't yell. He'd only said one of them would, and now she knew it was her. But he'd have things to say, his own lower and somehow more dangerous tone conveying just how pissed he was.

She did it without realizing it. She removed her gloves, dropping them on a nearby stool in the corner near the closet. Instantly the fingers of her right hand found the band on her left. She began twisting the ring around her fourth finger, as though that would somehow help ease the ache that was so quickly returning to her chest. Now, at any second, he would finally…

"You kept it."

Dusty turns to look at him, the sudden smile on his face at war with the image she'd begun creating in her mind. His eyes are trained on her left hand, on the ring she was twisting frantically.

His ring. The ring he'd designed specifically for her.

And she can't help it. The answer flows out of her mouth before she can think to stop it. "Of course I kept it."

Dewey's eyes lift to hers, his face still so calm. Somehow, seeing the ring seemed to have added to that.

Dusty stops twisting it on her finger, a sudden thought occurring in her mind. The ring would've never been found in the fire. Dewey would obviously know that. Had he been looking for it? Even after all this time? Did he…

Dewey frowns slightly as she slips the rose-gold band off her finger. Walking shakily over to him, she stares down at it a moment more. Then she holds it out towards him, refusing to meet his gaze as she says, "If… it is yours after all. If you want it back, that's…"

Her eyes blink open wide when he cuts her off by rising sharply to his feet. Eyes now holding some of the anger she'd been expecting this whole time, he shakes his head before asking, "How can a person so beautiful and brilliant still be so stupid?"

Dusty's mouth drops open, and then her eyes widen even more when he snatches the ring from her hand. Slipping it back onto her finger immediately, he then looks back to her eyes. Shaking his head again, he asks, "What were you even thinking, offering this back to me?"

Again, the answer pops out without her consent. "You… I mean… don't you hate me?"

"No!" When Dusty doesn't just look confused, but almost unable to comprehend that word as his response, Dewey steps closer to her. She retreats instantly, fear entering her otherwise beautiful eyes.

Dear God. She really was so terrified of this, so convinced that he wouldn't forgive her, that she almost didn't believe it was happening right now.

When her back hits the doors of the closet, Dewey braces his hands on either side of her head. He still can't stop shaking his head. "Dusty… how could you ever think such a stupid thing?"

"I… I left."

"That you did. Which, by the way, you are never allowed to do again. Ever. If I get even so much as a notion that you might do something like this ever again, I will find a way to keep you cuffed to my side."

Dusty blinks, but then shakes her own head, "I… broke your heart."

Dewey pauses at that, then takes in a deep breath. Sighing, he nods, "That you did as well, darlin'. I was heartbroken. So was all of VFD for that matter. You were such a bright flame for us. So brilliant, in your own way. A way none of the rest of us had the capacity to be, which is why you were so needed."

Lifting his gaze to hers again, he says gently, "Don't ever do that again. VFD has gotten smarter over the years, but there is much yet that a great deal of people need to learn. Jacques, most of all."

A tiny laugh spilled forth from her lips before she clamped a hand over her mouth to prevent anymore. Shaking her head, she mutters, "I'm not supposed to be laughing."

"And why not?"

"I'm supposed to be miserable."

"Why?"

"Because… because…"

Dewey presses a tender kiss to her cheek, hears the gasping sob that rips out of her chest. He gives her a moment to come to terms with the fact that, yes, he did just kiss her again. Then he does it again, before whispering, "You are smart in your own way, darlin', as I stated before. But you were never the one who always knew what was going on in my head."

Leaning back so he can look at her again, he tilts his head before continuing, "You found out I was jealous. Once. Everything else, you had to badger out of me at some point or another. I have always known what you were thinking, Dustine Baudelaire. Or I at least had a very good idea about where your mind was going to go in the end. You could never, and will never be able to lie to me. You remember?"

When she nods, he smiles. It slips a little though, and she can see disappointment come over his face before he asks his next question. "Of all the things you could think me capable of, Dusty… how could you think I would ever be able to hate you?"

She was about to say that she abandoned him again… but he'd already conceded to that and simply told her she was never allowed to do it again. There were a million reasons he could hate her at this point, and she would've accepted all of them for what they were.

But all she saw right now, as the disappointed look quickly vanished away, was the same thing she'd always seen in his eyes. Adoration, devotion… love. He was looking at her like she was still the most precious thing he'd ever had the pleasure to possess.

He was looking at her like she was his. Which she was. She would always be his.

Taking another minute to collect her scattered thoughts, she then says shakily, "You… don't hate me?"

Dewey smiles again, and then leans in enough so his nose rests beside hers. Letting out a long breath, he answers, "I could not ever, and will not ever, hate you, Dustine Baudelaire. And what's more, I will tell you right now. You are so overwhelmingly forgiven. You were forgiven the minute Jackie said your name, and that you were alive. You were forgiven when Larry confirmed it, and I collapsed to the floor."

At the concern that instantly registered in her eyes, Dewey couldn't help laughing. Kissing the end of her nose, loving her blink of surprise, he presses his forehead against hers. Then he asks teasingly, "So… have I punished you enough with making you talk about everything I already know?"

Dusty stares at him a moment before a smile of her own finally graces her lips. Another small giggle leaves her, which she quickly tamps down again. She still didn't feel like it was her place to laugh yet.

Then, because she was going to make it her life's mission to never lie to him again, she answers, "No." When he tilts his head, she adds, "Nothing… there is nothing I can ever do to make up for what I did to you. I can't… there's no punishment fitting enough for that."

Dewey makes a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. Reaching up a hand to run his fingers across some of her hair, he watches her eyes close tight, the tears she'd been struggling to keep at bay spilling from the sides. Her lips were trembling, trying to contain everything.

She opens her eyes slightly when he says softly, "I think there is one fitting enough for you leaving me for so long. But we will get to it later, when we have the time for it. But right now…"

He doesn't finish the thought. He just tilts his head, slanting his lips to meet hers, fusing them together the way they used to. And it was just as great as it had been back then… but it also felt like more at this moment. So much more.

And then Dusty was falling. Her trembling limbs simply refused to support her anymore. Another sobbing gasp tore from her lips as she nearly crumbled to the ground.

Dewey's arms wrapped around her, holding her tight against him. He picked her up enough to carry her over and sit her on the edge of the bed. And even amidst her continued crying, Dewey found the zipper of the leather jacket she always wore. Sliding it down, he slid it from her arms without even an ounce protest on her end. The tank top she was wearing underneath pleased him to no end. It simply made what he wanted to do right now easier.

Dusty wasn't sure what he was trying to accomplish, until he moved her to lay out on the bed. Then he came down beside her, and rolled her onto her side, facing him.

He drew her in as close as possible, one of his legs slipping between hers. But it's when his fingers pull the left strap of her tank top to the side that she knows what he wants. And as his fingers trail across her tender flesh once more, she ducks her head to be buried against his chest as she cries.

There were no words that could completely encompass all of how she felt right now. It was like every nerve ending in her body had been sparked to life in some sort of new and intense way. She couldn't get close enough to him, but not like when they were younger and couldn't stop kissing each other, or didn't want to get out of bed because they simply wanted to lay together. She literally didn't think she'd ever get close enough to him to satisfy whatever it was her body was searching for right now. She wanted to crawl into him, bury herself in all that he was. She wanted to practically drown in him, and she wasn't even sure that would be enough.

As his face buries itself against the curve of her neck, she thinks maybe he's thinking the same thing. His arms weave themselves around her, locking themselves in place like a vice. And rather than comment on the fact that, if Sam called her to tell her about trouble she'd have to leave, she simply hurried to throw her arms around him as well. One hand cradled his head, shaking with the effort to try and make sure he never left where he was right now. Her other arm was across his back, fingers digging into the flesh as much as they could without hurting.

Dewey's leg slid further and more firmly between hers. She hitched one of hers over his hip, trying still to hold him closer to her. And as his own hand began running up and down her back in firm and comforting swipes, his other arm still refusing to give an inch, they both stop trying to move closer. They simply stay in that position, locked against each other.

And Dusty finally realizes she's not the only one shaking anymore. He is too. And the tears that are falling onto his shirt from her eyes aren't the only ones being shed either. She can feel his falling to land against her neck as he also mutters, "Dusty. Oh, Dusty."

She hates that she can hear her own tears in her voice, but she speaks anyway, begging, "Please forgive me, Dewey. Please…"

"Oh, Dusty. You are forgiven. I already told you that."

A pause, and then she concedes, "It's going to take me a while to believe it."

Dewey simply nods, "Then I'll make you a deal. You promise to never leave me again. And I will promise to show you later just how forgiven you are."

Her grip around him tightens before she mutters against him, "Deal."

"Good."

* * *

She's not sure how long they lay there. They literally just lay there, in each other's arms.

And Dusty decides, even as she hears the crackle of her earpiece coming back to life, that they still haven't laid here long enough. She could rest happily in this spot for years, she feels like. Just wrapped up in Dewey.

With his ear so close to hers, he can hear it too though. Sighing, he asks, "Is he telling you it's over? Or has something actually happened?"

Dusty squeezes him tighter, not wanting to let go. But then he feels her freeze entirely when Batman's voice says urgently, "We have a problem."

Dewey rolls so Dusty is on her back, him hovering over her. Tilting his head, he asks Dusty, "What's happened?"

Dusty shakes her head, not knowing yet. Touching her ear, she asks, "Are the children safe?"

"Yeah… for now. I… Dusty… this Justice Strauss lady is a real piece of work."

"Explain."

"I finally got a visual on the other two Justices involved in the case. Dusty… it's them."

Frowning, not yet understanding, Dusty asks, "Them? Them, who?"

A pause, and then Sam answers angrily, "The ones who cut you up. The ones who recruited Olaf in the first place."

Dusty's eyes snap so she's staring straight up at Dewey. Unconsciously, her right reaches up to touch that side of her neck. The one they'd carved into the day they'd kidnapped her. The day that had really started all of this for her.

Dewey watches her hand for a moment, and then she sees something light in his eyes that she'd never really seen before. Rage. Oh, she'd seen him angry plenty of times when they'd been together. She'd seen him angry and even frustrated a few minutes ago when she'd tried to give back his ring.

But this… this was anger on a whole other level. Rage that she wasn't aware Dewey was even capable of. And all because he knew… he knew from the way her hand touched her scar, who exactly was with them. He didn't even have to hear what Sam was saying. He just did as he always had. He read her like a book.

He made it about five inches towards leaving the bed, when Dusty shifted faster. She locked her legs on either side of his waist and swiftly flipped them so she was on top of him now. Dewey blinks in brief surprise, but then simply raises an eyebrow. "If you think this is going to stop me from trying to beat the shit out of them, you are incredibly wrong, darlin'."

Dusty just gives him a look, though there is a bit of a smile on her lips that tells him she's touched. Still, she says, "We do not act on impulse. The children are the priority. Foremost and always. Everything I do… everything we do, has to center around keeping them safe." Then she shrugs, "If in the process, you get to beat one of them up, so be it. But not before we have some sort of plan."

Dewey doesn't argue with that. He does raise another eyebrow though and ask, "One of them?"

Dusty shakes her head in amusement at him, though still not completely comfortable laughing outright in his presence. They'd simply have to work on that later. Right now, Dusty touches her ear again and asks, "What's the situation? Talk to me, Batman."

"Alright, here it is. Strauss tried to call for a swift verdict, but the children noticed that Olaf was entirely too comfortable in his seat. They decided to call their own witness."

Dusty blinks, and then rises from the bed. Grabbing her jacket, zipping it back up, she asks, "And you didn't think I needed to know that?"

"Hey, don't start with me. They weren't in danger. They just wanted more evidence. Of course, Olaf tried to turn it around on them. Tried to make it seem like they were the bad guys in all of this because of some of their decisions."

Dusty waits, and then asks impatiently, "And? Were you able to play the footage or not?"

"I was going for a dramatic effect."

"Batman, I don't have time for that."

"Right, sorry. Anyway, yes, I played all the footage you had me gather on the screen. And no, nobody actually knows where I am. They just know the footage is coming from somewhere, and is fantastic, by the way."

Dusty rolls her eyes, grabbing her headscarf from the ground near the end of the bed. She glances around briefly for her gloves, but then turns to see Dewey standing by the door waiting for her, gloves in his hand.

Coming up to him, watching as he slips the right one on her hand for her, she asks, "And now?"

"He called Esme Squalor to the stand, trying to get out the story of the sugar bowl that he thought the children weren't aware of. But thanks to you, they do know the story. So basically, all their evidence is null and void. Olaf should go to jail."

Dusty frowns, but pauses her next question when Dewey pulls up her left hand. He draws it up to his lips, kisses her ring finger tenderly, and then slides the glove on. Then he leans forward enough to press a kiss to her nose while it's not yet covered up.

Finally, he smirks and gestures to the door while saying, "Ready when you are, darlin'."

Dusty can't help smiling at him a bit. Then she touches her ear again. "Batman… what am I missing? If Olaf should go to jail…"

"The other Justices aren't going to go for it, you know that. We need knew Justices. Now. Before these two can talk. And they can't be allowed to talk. Olaf's still going on right now, but I don't know how much longer his spiel can last."

Nodding, Dusty ponders that a moment. Then she smiles again and says, "Get Lemony."

Sam, from where he's sitting in his hotel room, all the monitors he was capable of bringing sitting around him, blinks in confusion. "Lemony? He's…"

"He's a free man now, right?"

"Well, yeah. Has been for a few weeks. But that's…"

"Batman, he's been chased by nearly ever cop this city and country has to offer. Means he knows all of them, and probably knows the best Justices around. Even better than this Justice Strauss we have here with us today. Find him, get him to grab any other two he thinks will make a sound judgment, and get him here. Now."

Sighing, Sam says, "Fine, I'm on it. But what about the two that are already here?"

And Sam can't help it. He jumps up and pumps his fists into the air repeatedly when Dusty says in a happier tone then he's heard in a long time, "My fiancé and I are going to handle them. Just find Lemony."

* * *

When they reach the seventh floor, which is where Hairless Man and Beardless Woman are located, Dusty has to take a brief pause from the other end of the hall.

The flashback she had, the one of the day they'd kidnapped and carved into her, wasn't necessarily terrifying for her anymore. Yes, it had been a traumatic event. But she'd spent twenty years after that training herself, ensuring that nothing like it would ever happen again. Not to her, and not to anyone else that mattered to her. So no… the flashback wasn't what had her stopping in a moment of fright.

It was the fact that in spite of all her training, all her work to keep her friends and family safe… they'd still managed to get past her at some point. That was the thing that was worrying her right now. She was only one person. And even with Sam's exemplary assistance, there was only so much they were capable of. It may have taken Olaf and his parental figures twenty years to finally find a crack to squeeze through… but they had finally found it.

Who's to say they wouldn't find a way to do it again?

Dewey's hand pressing against her lower back returned her to the present. And the look of fury she saw in his eyes when she turned to look at him again, it actually helped put her at ease right now. Because it wasn't just her and Sam anymore. It wasn't even just her, Sam and Dewey. It was all of VFD. All of VFD in which, while they may not be the fighters they most certainly should be at this point, they were still all equally enraged at these two for what they'd done to her so long ago. And at Olaf too. Jacques, in his quest to always remain a vision of righteous and true, may have thoughtlessly tried to give Olaf a second chance.

But that would not happen with the rest of them. Not for Olaf, and not for these two 'Justices'.

Turning back to them, Dusty puts a hand on Dewey's chest to keep him from moving forward. The look he gives her implies that she was not about to take them both on alone. She was the one who'd been hurt, but she had been and still was his. He almost had more right to try and beat them to a pulp then she did. Almost.

But Dusty simply draws him back behind one of the large pillars. Touching her earpiece, she asks, "Batman, where's Lemony?"

"He's on his way. And given that all of the Snickets tend to speed and run stop signs when driving the taxi, I'd say he'll be here in five minutes. Maybe ten if he runs into any really thick traffic."

Nodding, Dusty looks up at Dewey. "Ten minutes tops. We can't take them out until the new Justices are here?"

"Why?"

"On the off chance that we beat them up, tie them up, and they still somehow manage to get loose. We have to wait until the last possible moment. Only then can we be sure that, at the very least, they'll be too preoccupied with us to try and do anything about the trial going their way."

Dewey ponders that a moment, and then nods before saying, "Olaf is going to prison once these new Justices arrive. That's a given. But what about these two? We can't exactly just let them go free when this is over. Finding Olaf was a lucky break for them, and they don't want to lose him now. But if they do, they'll just try to replace him with someone worse."

Dusty stares at him for a moment. And then Dewey can see her grin from the way her eyes crinkle a bit before she says, "God, I love you."

His own beaming smile joins hers, even if hers is behind a mask. Touching her ear again, she asks, "Batman?"

"Here. What's up?"

"How quickly can you gather and compile enough evidence against these two assholes so we can put them away too?"

A pause, and then Sam sighs, "I… I'm not gonna lie Dusty. They're better at covering their tracks then Olaf is. I can do it. There's no doubt about that. But I'm not gonna be able to do it today. I need more time than that."

Nodding, Dusty says, "Take all the time you need after today is over. We'll find a way to keep them locked away and secure until you can have enough to send them to prison." To Dewey, she asks, "Can the lower level of the hotel hold them that long?"

Dewey nods, and then adds with a grin, "They can't pick locks the way you can. So long as we take care of them up here, and get them down there, we can hold them however long Sam needs us to."

And Dusty can't help grinning when Sam, who had managed to hear him, says, "Two weeks. Maybe three. I'd say one, but I don't want to get cocky. I also plan to be so thorough that those two won't even be able to get out based on good behavior."

"Thanks Batman. Tell me when it sounds like Justice Strauss is about to ask for a verdict from up here. Lemony or no Lemony, we'll have to take these guys out at that point."

"Roger. Batman out."

Taking a breath, Dusty then says to Dewey, "He'll let us know."

Dewey nods, and then leans over the banister beside them to look down at the people below.

Dusty didn't believe in twins or even triplets being able to feel each other's pain or things like that. But she did believe that, in certain sets, those siblings did possess some kind of sixth sense. At least as far as each other was concerned. And though it had been a long time, she'd still seen it often enough back then to not be surprised now when, almost as soon as Dewey looked down, his two brothers looked up at him.

How they knew what they were supposed to be doing? That she doesn't understand. Hadn't they literally just formed this plan? But when Dewey looks back at Dusty to see her confused expression, he explains, "Ernest and Frank are coming. If we need any backup, they'll be close by. Plus, it'll make sure the elevator is already on this floor, ready and waiting, so we can take these two straight down to the lower level."

Dusty can't help smiling just a bit at that. He'd gone to great lengths, preparing everyone for a series of outcomes, in order to make sure that nothing ruined what they were trying to do today. Certainly, a great deal of that was for the children. To keep them safe.

But Dusty couldn't help thinking now that, perhaps… actually, a good portion of it probably was that he was trying very hard to make sure she couldn't find a reason to sweep off with the children and run away again.

That thought is further confirmed, even as she blushes at his words, when he adds, "And as soon as this is over, the headdress comes off again. I'm so tired of not seeing your lovely face, darlin'."

They both go silent after that, both trying to count down the seconds and minutes until Lemony arrives. Both hoping that Olaf keeps trying to spin his web of lies, at least for a little while longer, so the verdict can still be delayed.

Batman comes over the com again exactly eight minutes later. "Pixie?"

"Talk to me, Batman."

"She's about to call for a verdict. Lemony will be walking in the doors in, literally, one minute. You just need to buy him a minute."

Nodding, Dusty slips a blade into her hand. Dewey raises an eyebrow at her, but she simply holds a finger to where her lips are behind her mask. She ponders their situation for about another second. Then she nods towards the two fiends behind them. "You take Baldy. I'll handle the old woman."

Dewey nods in agreement, following as she then swiftly spins out from behind the pillar.

The two 'Justices'… if you really want to still call them such a thing, were rising to their feet, preparing to give their two cents on the matter.

Dusty didn't focus on the old man. He was Dewey's to handle. And while both the old timers had, at one point, been quite skilled in some form of combat… time simply was no longer their friend. It shows in the elbow that comes up and knocks into Dusty's chin when she grips the Beardless woman's arm to spin her around. There was a slight jarring sensation that accompanied the hit… but nothing more. The woman was trying to fight… but she no longer possessed the actual strength to pull it off.

It's why Dusty didn't really see the need to watch Dewey handle the old man. She simply glared at the woman for attempting to knock her out with such a pitiful hit, and then twisted her around, flipping her over her own shoulder. With the wind knocked out of her, Beardless woman couldn't even manage to moan, much less utter a cry of distress at the attack.

And even as she began finally trying to get back to her feet, Dusty was over top of her. Piercing green eyes glaring down at her, and the steel of the knife held against her throat.

Dusty could tell it had been a long time since either of these two had faced someone who had, in some way, the same sense of ruthlessness that they did. Dusty's aggression was targeted towards saving the people she loved, and preventing fires and putting them out wherever she could. That was the difference. But she was no less fierce in her way of getting it done. In fact… she may be even more so.

Leaning closer to the woman's face, Dusty hisses, "Speak, you die. Move, you die. Breathe too deeply right now, and you die. Understand?"

The woman just nods shakily. Dusty honestly couldn't believe how easy this particular part of everything was. Where these two were supposed to be the vicious heads of Anti-VFD, all it was taking was for their precious little lives to be threatened, and they were rolling over like a couple of dogs.

Or… well, the lady was. And the man probably would've too… if he'd been given the chance.

Dusty finally looked up for Dewey, to see how he'd faired. She was so certain that she'd simply see him pinning the old man to the floor, that her eyes nearly bulged out of her head at what she saw instead.

The rage was back in his eyes, same as it had been when he'd first understood that these two were here. And rather than simply take the man down to the floor and hold him there, Dewey was punching him in the face. Repeatedly. Hard as he fucking could. His entire arm reeled back each time, sailed back down and landed across Baldy's face so that his fist made contact first, but his elbow still ended up against the man's head by the time his swing was finished.

She'd always known he'd never forgive what they'd done to her. But back then he had channeled his efforts simply into trying to find these two. Trying to corner them and end them from within the walls of his library.

Dusty does remember, however, that on certain occasions before she'd left, she'd see his hands tremble whenever the Beardless Woman and Hairless Man were brought up. She used to think it was simply the fear he remembered having that day, when he couldn't find her and Ernest had to come and save her.

But, as he'd said before, she'd never been the one who could read him like a book. And apparently, all this time, even twenty years later, his hands had still been shaking. Right up until the point when he began slamming it into the man's face.

Which is, consequently, beginning to look unrecognizable. Snapping herself out of her shock, she says sharply, "Dewey!"

His fist, knuckles know cracked and bloody, holds in the air for a moment as he lifts his eyes to find her. She glances down at the man in response to his questioning gaze. And his only response is to raise an eyebrow before explaining, "I wasn't kidding, darlin'. I intend to beat the shit, and everything else I can, out of at least this one."

But as he prepared to slam his fist down again, Frank appeared behind him and caught him by the elbow. Gently, not really trying to haul him away. But stopping him for the moment so Frank could say, "If you want to hear the verdict, you should stop now. Lemony's here. Why don't you and Dusty watch the rest of the show. We'll take care of these two."

Ernest moves over to Dusty's side, bending down to get a good look at the old woman on the floor. Then he lifts his eyes to the pair of green ones that are the only things visible behind the mask she wears. He wasn't his brother. He didn't know Dusty's eyes simply by looking at them like this.

But her voice was unmistakable when she finally says, "Bought time you got up here."

Grinning, he reaches out for a moment to wrap her in a tight hug. Kissing the top of her covered head, he sighs. "I know he's missed you a great deal more than the rest of us ever could. But I have missed you, Dusty."

She grins at that. Then they both look down at the woman beneath her, whose eyes have widened to the size of saucers before she utters, "Dusty? Dusty Baudelaire? But… no! No, you were dead! You're dead!"

Dusty ponders it a moment, and then glances up at Dewey again. Frank hadn't yet completely convinced him to get off of Hairless Man. Glancing at the woman again, Dusty then nods to herself before looking back at Dewey. "Dewey."

He stops his weak struggles against his brother to look at her. She lifts her knife away from the woman's throat, handing it to Ernest. Then she puts a hand to her mask and says, "Let Frank and Ernest take them away. Let them, and I'll take this off immediately."

It didn't take much convincing after that. Dewey narrows his eyes slightly, but there was a grin on his face all the same. Then he looked back at Frank and said with a sigh, "Well, you heard her. Get the trash out of here."

Dusty rolls her eyes while rising to her feet. Slipping the headwrap off once again, she grins at Frank and Ernest when they can't help showing off beaming smiles at the sight of her. Frank rushes over briefly to wrap her in a hug of his own.

The look on the Beardless Woman's face? Priceless. Not nearly enough to make up for the fact that Beatrice was still gone. But still priceless. And the pitiful little yelp of fear she let out when Dusty stepped closer, eyes glaring, was definitely something she'd never forget.

Glaring at them both, letting Frank and Ernest restrain them and prepare to take them away, Dusty leaves them with one final thought. "I told Olaf once that the day he touched Beatrice would be the day he signed his own death warrant. That he would beg, even pray to be dead, before I'd even consider actually killing him." Tilting her head, she tacks on, "Did you think the same rule didn't also apply to you?"

She gives a nod to Frank and Ernest after that, who drag the two leaders of Anti-VFD away. What they'll end up doing with them until Sam can put together a conclusively tight report that sends them to jail… well, Dusty's not sure. Several rather terrible things come to mind… but that would not be a good example for the children. She'd never killed people before, unless it was necessary to eliminating the problem.

She should've killed Olaf long ago… but that was beside the point now. The point right now, was that killing any of the three of them was not the thing to do anymore. Certainly not with the children watching.

Consequently, Dewey and Dusty move to the edge of the banister now so they can have a better look at what little remains of the trial. Justice Strauss was thoroughly confused at the turn of events, what with Lemony standing there in the middle of the aisle, two proper Justices on either side of him. Olivia was there too. She'd apparently taken to driving the taxi while Lemony had explained everything he could to the Justices before they arrived at the hotel.

Consequently, and as Dusty had suspected, Lemony could actually tell them quite a lot. The man's love for documenting literally everything was coming in very hand in terms of evidence that people could actually physically see and touch.

She sees him glance up towards upper levels of the hotel briefly before turning his attention back to the crowd. He knew she was there. He wasn't like Dewey, who knew her mind so well as to actually guess what floor she'd originally been on. But he knew her well enough, through Beatrice, that he knew she was here.

And she couldn't help it. She let out a small and quite laugh while shaking her head when Lemony suddenly says, "I confess, I may have overlooked a detail or two. A minor detail may have gone amiss."

She stops paying attention for a moment after that. Dusty turns her attention to the elevators to watch Frank and Ernest take their prisoners to the lower level. And even though Dewey's fingers tracing over her neck and shoulder feels rather nice, she refuses to be distracted right now. Reaching up to hold his hand still, she says, "Watch your brothers get down with no problems. Then you can distract me."

"Really? Even with the trial still going on?" Dusty huffs at that, to which Dewey chuckles before leaning down to rest his nose in the curve of her neck. Breathing in deeply, he says, "Fine, darlin'. I will wait until all matters are settled before trying to whisk you away."

Silence for a moment. And then Dusty whispers softly, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, darlin'."

After a second longer though, Dusty adds, "I'm gonna need you to let me go for a moment."

"That's gonna need a good reason."

"Olaf is about to grab a harpoon gun to point at one of the children."

Dewey pauses for a moment, but then simply leans away before asking, "And you?"

"I'm going to take off his hand."

And even though she still doesn't feel like she has the right, she can't help smiling a little when Dewey lets out a sigh before saying, "God, I've missed you."

* * *

Chapter 8! Took me long enough, right? There will only be one more chapter after this. Just to sort of wrap everything up. I do hope you've enjoyed the journey so far, and enjoy how I make it end once I get there. Thank you all for taking the time to read it! :)


	10. The Concluding Act

Disclaimer: "I do not own 'A Series of Unfortunate Events'. Not the books, not the movie, not the TV series... none of it. I own Dusty, and any original content I make her do or say or add to this story. That is all."

* * *

Chapter 9: The Concluding Act

She doesn't think Dewey actually expected her to take off Olaf's hand. Consequently, the rest of the room hadn't been prepared for it. The screams that followed were like something out of a horror movie. To his credit though, Dewey didn't look like he was truly all that shocked. A tiny bit surprised that she'd actually pulled her dagger out and thrown it down with that level of accuracy… but not shocked.

And for once, Dusty is glad that Jacques decided to show up. With a crew of doctors and nurses along with him. He was still on the mend, but doing considerably better, all things considered. Olivia ran at him and wrapped him in a tight hug as soon as he got in the doors. And the doctors who were there to make sure nothing else bad happened to Jacques, were able to tend to Olaf's severed limb.

Justice Strauss wasn't to be swayed from her position on sending him to jail either, in spite of the blood now staining the carpet. She had the verdict made and the sentence of 'prison for life' authenticated and signed before she allowed them to take him away to the hospital.

Lemony then made a loud proclamation that no one except the truest members of VFD would understand. Not the declaration itself, which was that the five cop friends he'd brought along with him as a precaution would be more than capable of making sure Olaf couldn't escape. Everyone obviously could understand that. They just didn't understand why he felt the need to say it so loudly.

But VFD, those that remained, they knew. They knew Dusty was still somewhere in the building. And they knew she'd leave if she thought there was even the slightest chance of Olaf getting away again.

Consequently, even though Dusty knew Lemony's promises were just about as good as they could come, she was still contemplating following Olaf to the hospital. And her heart skipped a beat happily when Dewey offered a tender kiss to her cheek before saying, "We can follow, if you want. All the way until they actually take him to the prison."

Turning to glance at him, she asks, "We?"

"Yes, darlin'. I know how important having him put away is. I know how important it is to you that he gets put in the worst possible prison imaginable, which is why they chose Alcatraz. I understand these things and I am willing to help you see them through." But he hardens his eyes a touch when he adds, "But you do not get to leave my sight again right now. So yes, we can go. But it will be 'we', darlin'."

She didn't try to argue with him on that. She just turned to rest her head on his shoulder before saying, "I'm sure Lemony knows what he's talking about."

"And Jacques?"

"Pray my sympathy for the man's injuries outweighs my annoyance with his tongue."

"Hmm… no, I don't have a lot of faith in that idea. Guess I'll just have to keep a tight grip on you."

He locks his arms around her for emphasis for a moment. Dusty almost grinned at him, then wiped it away. It still wasn't…

Dewey rolls his eyes. Then he leans closer to her ear and whispers, "The punishment I have in mind for you leaving me all this time, will get a hell of a lot more interesting if you don't stop being an idiot and just smile at me."

"It's not my place to…"

"Are you happy to see me?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm ecstatic to see you. I've never been so happy to see a person in my whole life. But…"

"Then prove it and smile at me."

She grins a little, and then can't help laughing when Dewey says, "A start. A weak one, but a start. Come on."

Her hand shook in his when the elevator stopped on the main floor. Dewey pulls her through the doors and then pauses on the other side for a moment. And Dusty watches as he raises her trembling hand to his lips, kissing the back of it gently.

He then promptly also pulls her gloves off again. Tossing those aside, he mutters a whispered, "You can have them back later." Then he pulls both her hands to his lips again, kissing both before placing the two of them on either side of his neck.

Dusty worries for a moment that something finally was wrong. Maybe the anger had come back, or maybe in spite of how ridiculous he thought the idea was, maybe he had finally found it in him to hate her. At least, maybe a little bit.

Whatever other weights she'd still been trying to carry up to that moment though? The last of them were finally all whisked away when he spoke his next words in an almost weary tone. "I don't want to share you right now. Not yet. I want to go back to the room we were in before, and just stay there." His thumbs run tiny circles over her wrists as he adds, "Does that make me selfish?"

His eyes had closed as he spoke, but they opened again when she answered. "No. It just makes you mine."

His sharp intake of breath is followed by a laughing exhale of breath. He draws one of her hands up to kiss the inside of her wrist. Then he opens considerably darker eyes to look at her again. Raising an eyebrow, he says, "One hour, Dusty. That's all the patience I have left to give at this point. We will stay here and entertain everyone who will be thrilled to see you're not actually dead. We will ensure that the children are still fine with the room they're staying in. We will make sure they know to ask Sam or Ernest or Frank for anything else they might need today. But it will all happen within one hour."

Dusty swallows thickly. "And then what? What happens in an hour?"

"We are going back to being alone, darlin'. Completely alone. And then the punishment you seem to think you deserve will commence in the way I see fit." Stepping closer to her, his nose brushing hers now, he adds, "And you will not attempt to leave until I'm satisfied that you will never try to go so far away again."

Dusty nods immediately to that, and then can't help laughing when Dewey adds on a gentler note, "And you will stop agreeing wholeheartedly to everything I'm saying right now, simply because you don't feel like it's your place to argue."

The smile her laugh brings to her face warms his heart. And then his own splits across his face when she edits, "You're going to have to give me at least a day. In my opinion you've earned far more than that. But if it's what you want, I'll cut it down to a day."

"I love you. So much."

He brushes his nose against hers again as she replies, "I love you too, Dewey." And then his lips land on hers. His hands slide to her back and draw her in as close as possible, keeping her there firmly, refusing to let her go. And she would've happily let him hold her, right here in this spot, for as long as he wished.

The hour Dewey had mentioned previously though, officially started when Ernest cleared his throat rather loudly from beside them. Dewey let out a quiet, but no less serious groan of frustration at having to pull back. He offered his brother a brief glare, but then sighed before taking Dusty's hand in his again. Raising an eyebrow, he asks, "You ready?"

She hadn't been entirely sure how to answer him at first. She was ready to see these people again, those that she'd left behind in order to protect in her own way. But she was also terrified of their reactions.

It was probably best that Lemony was the first one to see her come around the corner. Lemony had been in love with Beatrice, that was certain. But being as close to her as he had been, had also brought him close to Dusty at one point. They had been friends, and he knew he'd always been her favorite of the Snickets.

The man was usually so eloquently put together. Long words and definitions, speeches and poems flowing out of his mouth on a regular basis. Dusty's eyes actually widened when he ran for her. The rest of the room turned to see her at that point as well, but Dusty paid them no mind for a moment. She simply let Lemony scoop her up in his arms.

Holding her tight, sighing against the top of her head, he says, "A minor detail, as I'm sure you know, is typically…"

Before he could begin giving her one of his long definitions of a word or phrase, Dusty quickly says, "Lemony… shut up."

He chuckled, and then leaned back so he could look at her face. Cupping it in his hands, he asks, "How? Why? And how on earth did you clear my name? I know it had to be you, but…"

Sam comes out of a utility closet nearby, and Dusty just points before saying, "You have your resources. I have mine."

"Indeed."

Sam glances between them, and then gives a mock salute before saying, "Batman, signing off."

Dusty just rolls her eyes. "Just get over here, Sam. Before I'm assaulted again by…"

After that, the 'assaulting' never stopped. Jackie was first, followed by Larry. Ernest and Frank came back from the lower level and wrapped her in their own hugs. Certainly, they'd already seen her, but they hadn't had time to hold her quite as tight as they would've like earlier.

Kit had her next. The youngest Snicket's eyes were wide with tears rimming the lower edge. Trembling hands cupped Dusty's face for a moment, before she commented shakily, "I had you. I found you in the dessert. I… you were right in front of me. And I never knew."

Dusty tilts her head gently. "I have spent a great deal of time ensuring I can remain hidden, even if I have to get close. There were only two of you who would've ever been able to figure this out without my removing the mask. And you are a wonderful person, Kit Snicket. But you didn't know me that well." Glancing over at Dewey, she adds, "He did. And Jackie."

Kit nods, and then pulls her into the tightest hug imaginable. When she leans back, Kit glances to where Sam is standing near the other Denouement brothers. Nodding towards him, she asks, "And that is… Hulk?"

Dusty grins and laughs a little before answering. "Yes. He changes his code name often for when you're speaking to him over any sort of electronic communication. In reality though, his name is Sam. And instead of Hulk now, he's Batman today."

Kit blinks her eyes in the slightest bit of bewilderment. But then she smiles gently. Then she asks almost timidly, "If… if I ask him about the device you use to talk to him long-distance? Would he…"

Dusty rolls her eyes, but nudges her towards Sam anyways. "He loves explaining his tech to willing listeners. I warn you though, he will go on, forever, if you let him. You should probably pick a cutoff point eventually."

Kit didn't seem daunted at all by the long conversation. In fact, Dusty could even recall on the day that Beatrice had stolen the sugar bowl, Kit had been the one trying to convince everyone to settle down and simply have a nice, 'long' discussion. And as Dusty watched Sam start prattling off details about his tech, she couldn't help but shake her head at the two of them.

If Kit wasn't attached to someone already, it was very possible she'd attach herself to Sam sooner rather than later.

There were so many others who approached to hug her or welcome her back. Many of whom she didn't even recognize, on account of the fact that even when she'd been in the organization, she'd still spent a majority of her time with Dewey.

Jacques got to her last, still wrapped in several bandages and hooked up to an IV that Olivia carted behind him. The man opened and closed his mouth several times, and Dusty felt Dewey place a hand against her lower back. Trying to help her brace for whatever might leave the man's mouth.

Finally though, Jacques just sighed before letting a gentle smile grace his own face. Extending a hand to her, he says in as plain as way as possible, "I can't thank you enough, Dusty. You saved my life. I'm grateful."

Dusty blinked when she realized that was all he had to say to start. Shaking his hand in turn, she offers him a gentle grin. "You're sweet, Jacques. When you want to be."

He grins back, "Shame my version of sweet doesn't match yours. Appears you would've been quite the catch. Sorry I let you get away. The pair we could've made, with my verbal prowess and your…"

Dusty just rolls her eyes, "And he's back." And when Dewey's hand slides to wrap around her waist, pulling her tighter towards him, she leans into his body before assuring, "And I'm rather glad you weren't able to keep me."

Jacques glances at Dewey, and then nods, "Yes. I can see that. How's it going, Dewey?"

The man in question raises an eyebrow, "It'll be better when you stop trying to hit on my fiancée."

Jacques chuckles. "I would never. Besides, I've finally found my perfect match." He opens his arm for Olivia to slide into. The woman who had once played a fortune teller now looked clean cut. Much more like the librarian she had been before leaving Prufrock.

Nodding towards Dusty, Olivia says, "I never really got the chance to thank you properly for saving my life. And his. So thank you."

Dusty nods to that, and then turns her head down when she feels a tug on her shirt. Sunny smiles up at her, reaching up her arms so she can be picked up.

Once Dusty scoops her up, she asks the youngest Baudelaire, "And where is this Justice lady?"

Sunny points to the woman who is no longer wearing her white powder wig. She stands with the rest of the children around her, and to Dusty's confusion, there's a sad frown on her face. What on earth was wrong now?

But when she walks over, intent on still explaining to the Justice all the trouble she'd caused, Strauss looks up at her with tears filling her own eyes. And Dusty still felt the need to express how dire the woman had caused their situation to become. The time she'd been given to think about it had allowed her to come to the conclusion, in the past few hours, that the mole of VFD was in fact this woman. She simply had too much trust. Trust in people that had not earned it, and were not anywhere near worthy of it.

But her expression gentles when Strauss walks up to her. Taking Dusty's hand in her own, she stammers unintelligently for a moment. Then she finally gets out, "I… I didn't know. I mean… I've known them most of my lives. Worked with them for years. I… I didn't…"

Dusty stares at her for a moment. Then she just sighs. Placing Sunny back on her feet, she steps forward and wraps the woman in a hug. Patting her back, she says, "You see the good in everyone. Even if it's not there to be found. It's a rare gift and quality in a person."

Leaning back, Dusty sighs again, "And much as I'd like to say we need to cure you of it… it would probably be a much darker world if people such as yourself didn't exist." Strauss smiles in a little relief at that. Then she nods eagerly in understanding when Dusty adds, "But you can't be trusted with deciding what people can help make decisions in the future. You'll have to be paired with someone else."

Lemony comes up to her side as if on cue. Smiling gently at Dusty, he then looks to Strauss and says, "It's been a long time since I've had what I'd call a partner. Could be interesting to try again, now that I'm a free man."

Strauss' ready agreement to that arrangement put Dusty more at ease. Jackie then comes up to her side and asks, "Does that mean you're coming back to VFD, Dusty?"

She shakes her head instantly, "No. But I think VFD, itself, needs to disband in a sense." At Jackie's wide-eyes, Dusty edits, "Well… not disband. Not even necessarily be done for. But it needs to change. Needs to shift and come forward out of the dark ages."

Larry raises an eyebrow, "Dark ages?"

"You people still use phones with cords attached to them. If that's not living as though stuck in the dark ages, I don't know what is."

The man who had once nearly died of frost bite, after a moment of stunned silence, finally laughs. Dusty grins at him, and then turns to Dewey who is still directly behind her. Tilting her head, she asks, "So… is there anyone left who doesn't know about you anymore?"

Dewey shrugs, "The world in general. I'm still a ghost to all of them. But everyone still within VFD knows I exist now."

Dusty nods at that, and then bites her lip for a moment before whispering, "Sorry."

Dewey just shakes his head at her. Kissing her forehead, he lets out a long breath before leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Your hour is almost up."

But at that moment, Dusty feels a hand slip into hers. Glancing down at Violet, who is now standing next to her, Dusty waits to hear what it is she might want. Violet, looking more relieved than she's allowed herself to in a long time, comes closer to lean against Dusty's side. Then she asks tiredly, "Can we go back home? Please?"

Dusty looked at all the children now in her care. Even with Olaf gone, they didn't look completely comfortable in this place. That wasn't anyone's fault except Olaf's… but the fact remained that they didn't want to stay longer than necessary. They wanted to go back to her home, which was now what they considered their home. A place they knew would be safe, no matter what else might be thrown at them.

Squeezing Violet's hand, Dusty takes a second to think it all through. Then she turns to Dewey. Frustration laced his features for all of a second at the idea of her leaving again. The children were the priority, she'd said it many times already. He knew that. But still… he hadn't had enough time alone with her yet.

In the next second though, his face eased into a content expression when she gripped the front of his vest and asked, "Come with me?"

Dewey takes her hand and lifts it to his lips. He kisses over her ring, and then calls over his shoulder, "Ernest. Frank." Both men come up to him, and then grin when he says, "My fiancée and I are going to visit her home. And determine whether or not that's where we want it to remain. I'll call later."

Dusty blinks and asks, "Where else would my house go? You can't just…"

Dewey shrugs, "I just said that for their benefit. If the children like it there, you'll be staying there. And if you're staying there, then I'll be staying there. Everyone will just have to get used to the sub-sub-library being located somewhere else." Pulling her further into his side, he assures, "Make no mistake, Dustine Baudelaire. Where you go, I go. Where you stay, I stay. And if you do try to do something like die on me ever again, you will suddenly find your ability to pick locks put to the test when I'm through locking all the doors and throwing away the keys."

And he can't help it. His smile splits across his face when she says, "I already promised to never do that again anyway. But if it helps, Violet has already made me swear that I won't ever disappear on them. So there."

* * *

He was impressed with the setup, if not a bit flattered. Dewey's entire existence had been under ground for so long. And since she'd found him all those years ago, even before they'd started dating, she'd spent much of her time with him. Which meant that a great deal of her time was also spent under the ground. He'd assumed before they'd arrived that her living quarters would be above ground, in that respect. A way to no longer be trapped beneath the surface, even if she was supposed to be dead to the rest of the world.

But her top level was an untouched façade. And the three levels beneath it had been given all her love and attention in terms of the house. The upper level was put together enough to fool a stranger into thinking someone lived there. But these three bottom floors? They were where she stayed. This was home for her.

He'd have to tell her that she managed to surprise him on this point. Even if he shouldn't have been surprised. When they'd been together, she'd never resented the fact that he couldn't join her above the surface. On the contrary, she loved going beneath it to spend her time with him.

The children gave him a tour of all the floors, going as far as to show them their rooms and how they'd personalized them for themselves. He was shown the library, and Klaus and Isadora made a point of explaining that they were sure there would be enough room to add his own collection of books.

He honestly didn't care if there was or not. He was staying, regardless of whether his own library could accompany him or not. But he did believe they were correct. As much open space that there was left in the room, he thinks his old library could join what's here, and there'd still be room to spare.

Dewey allowed them to show him the final level, though they insisted that he not touch anything until Sam had come back to show him stuff. Consequently, the computer genius was still back at the hotel, locked in conversation with Kit. That relationship would certainly be interesting.

Violet took him back to the first under ground level after that, and pointed to the room belonging to Dusty. Smiling up at Dewey, she then hugs him and says, "Guess we get to call you uncle Dewey. Right?"

He just grins, kisses the top of her head, and answers, "I would consider it an honor, Miss Violet Baudelaire."

As soon as she dashed away, Dewey walked into the room and closed the door behind him. Dusty was standing in front of her closet, removing all of her black outerwear and sighing in relief at having it off. Her disguise was foolproof, and she loved it for that. But damn, if it didn't sometimes get hot underneath it all.

Dewey stared at the lines on her back. They were small and hardly visible anymore. The stitches had been taken out weeks ago, and all that remained were faint white lines where the lion had managed to get in his one good swing.

Dusty freezes on the spot when Dewey's fingers touch her bare skin, tracing out those lines for a moment. Then he leans forward enough to whisper in her ear, "Are you ready to accept your punishment?"

Dusty turns to look at him over her shoulder. Raising an eyebrow, she answers, "You haven't even really told me what it's going to be yet. So I don't know."

"I see. Well, allow me to enlighten you." He trails his fingers from the edge of her shoulder, over the strap of her bra, and gingerly up the curve of her neck. Her pulse shot up instantly, and Dewey smirks before planting a gentle kiss to the back of her neck. Dusty moves to turn, hoping to grab hold of him and drag him into a deep and long kiss.

Dewey steps back, just beyond her reach. Then he nods towards the bed and says, "Lay down, darlin'. I'm not done with you yet." He watches confusion sweep across her features for a moment. And then, as she moves to obediently sit on the edge of the bed, Dewey reaches out to trail his fingers along her ribs. He brushes the side of her breast and then goes back down before stepping away again.

She'd been about to reach out for him again, and he'd known that. She gives him a look that was clearly meant to imply that she wasn't in the mood to play. But there, underneath her false annoyance, Dewey could see the anticipation she was feeling for what he might do next.

Raising an eyebrow, Dewey smirks. "Oh, darlin'. We've had this discussion before as well. You are rather fun to tease."

"I don't…" But she doesn't get the words out, because she remembers that conversation. The one in which Dewey had straight up told her that he knew she did love to be teased, so long as she was being teased by him.

And Dewey can't help but grin when her eyes widen upon realizing what exactly her 'punishment' would be. To simply be teased by him, until he was content that she could handle no more.

He watches a tremor roll through her body before she finally swallows thickly before conceding, "I… don't know if I can handle that. I…"

Dewey simply steps closer to her. Sitting her down on the edge of her bed, he kisses the end of her nose before adding, "I know you can. Because I know what you love. I know what you can handle, and I know what will push you too far. I haven't forgotten anything, Dusty." Tilting his head at her, he adds with a gentle smile, "Trust me. Let me take care of you. Let me 'punish' you, if we're still going to call it that. And let me love you. And give me this, so that when we're finished, I can be satisfied that you will most certainly never leave me again."

She reaches up to cup his face in her hands. Firmly, though there are tears entering her eyes, she says, "I will not, I swear, ever leave you again."

Dewey nods, kissing her swiftly on the lips as a sign that he believed her. But when he pulled back, Dusty couldn't help laughing when he winked and said, "Indulge me then. You've been gone over twenty years now. I have a lot of time to make up for."

Dusty grips his head a little tighter and stresses again, "Dewey… you know I love it when you tease me. I love everything you've ever done to and for me. But I… the first day I've seen you again… I don't know if… I just…"

Dewey kisses her one more time, letting it linger for a moment before pulling back. Then he traces her face with his fingers before saying, "I know that you don't know. I get that. But Dusty, I will know. Not right this second, because I haven't even started yet. But I will know, because even after twenty years, I know you." And with a grin, he adds, "I can read you like a book. That's why you've avoided looking at me or getting near me all these years until now. Because you knew that I'd figure it out. That I'd still be able to read you. Right?"

Dusty nods, and when his fingers trace along the curve of her neck again, she shivers before resting her forehead against his. Sighing, breathing him in, she finally offers, "Do whatever you want with me. You can have anything. Everything. Just… just please…"

He hushes her softly. "Darlin', I have already told you that you're forgiven. Now let me prove it to you."

"Oh, please."

He kissed her silent after that, laying her back on the bed and moving her to the middle. And from that spot, she is not allowed to move.

When the children ask Sam later on, as they're getting ready for bed, if they think Dusty is still alright, he assures them, "Dewey's taking care of her. Trust me. There's nobody else able to at this point. Not even me. She's fine."

And as he walks past her room to get to his own, Kit moving along with him, a bit of a blush rushes to his cheeks when he hears a high-pitched moan come from behind the door. Kit glances at him, then at the door, then at him again. Patting his shoulder, tugging him along, she says softly, "Yes, I think you're right. She's doing just fine."

Sam gives a nervous laugh, and then asks, "So… I mean, there are a lot of empty rooms here. Dusty always intended it to be a place that, if need be, everyone could stay. So… you pretty much have your pick for the night. I can show you…"

"And, where would your room be?"

"Oh! That's right here, just three more doors down. There's an emergency chute in mine that I can slide down to get to the computer room quickly if need be. So that's right here. But you can…"

Kit simply walks up to it, opens the door, and then glances at him over her shoulder. Sam may not have caught all the signals she was sending earlier today. But his eyes widen when she looks him up and down and says, "Well, I'm going to bed. Care to join me?"

She disappeared into his room without another word. Sam took a moment to take a few deep breaths, and then glanced back down the hall to Dusty's room. He could faintly hear a rather high-pitched scream from that direction, so he quickly snapped his attention back to his own room. Running a hand through his hair, he then covers his mouth for a moment before dropping his hand. "Oh Dusty, I do hope I'm right in thinking it's okay for her to be here."

And as he peeks inside and sees Kit already without a shirt, he adds, "It definitely needs to be okay for her to be here." And as he shuts the door behind him, all the other sounds he might've heard were drowned out. Including another moan from Dusty's bedroom.

* * *

When Dusty wakes up the next morning, she blinks tiredly at her alarm clock before groaning in aggravation. She'd forgotten to cut the damn thing off.

Not that she really considers that to be her fault. Dewey had quite effectively distracted her. She'd tried to bring it up once, and he'd smirked before deciding to take it as a personal offense that she was able to think about that while he had his head between her legs. And then spent the next thirty minutes expressing just how 'offended' he was.

All her years fighting, training, spying, and being a shadow in this world… and she'd never woken up quite this sore. Granted, she was sore in places she wasn't used to being sore in. Over twenty years without having any kind of sexual interaction with another person tended to make those muscles forget what they were capable of going through.

She wasn't about to complain though. She was sore yes, but she was sore in ways she considered to be the best. She was sore from pleasure, sore from the seemingly endless teasing Dewey had poured onto her.

How had she actually managed to go twenty years without this? And even if she wanted to, would she actually be able to do it again? Dusty certainly doesn't think so.

Which was the whole point, she notes. Dewey had said this would be how he showed her she was forgiven. And how he convinced himself and her that she would never do something like this again. Well… here they were, and she certainly had no intentions of ever leaving his side again. The forgiveness part? That she'll probably still need time to fully wrap her head around. But she did believe that he meant it. Meant it in every kiss, every touch, every time he'd met her gaze with his own hungry one.

Her body shivers remembering all of yesterday, and then she can't help grinning when gentle fingers trace along her shoulder, to her throat, and up the tender column of flesh to her jaw. Dewey runs his fingers back down just as gently, and then reaches out with his other hand to hit the 'off' button on the alarm.

Tracing that same pattern over her tender flesh again, he asks, "And what are you thinking about right now?"

She kisses the top of his chest in response before lifting herself up on her elbow so she can look down at him. Smiling gently, she says, "I'm thinking everything is sore, and it's all your fault."

Dewey smirks up at her, reaching up to cup her face in his hand. "Is that right?"

"Yes, it is."

"I see. Well, I suppose I'd best make up for that."

"Yes, I think that sounds lovely."

He chuckles, drawing her down for a kiss. His tongue dives into her mouth immediately, and she sighs into his, bringing her own hand up to run through his hair.

Dewey then tries to roll them over so he has her beneath him again, but she puts a firm hand on his shoulder to pin him where he is. Breaking away, she says, "Nuh-uh. That's not how you make up for my soreness today."

He was about to pout at her, but she didn't waste any time. In the next second, she was straddling him, her hands on either side of his head. Kissing him swiftly, pulling back before he could do anything about it, she asks, "You ready?"

Dewey can't help chuckling, "Dusty, darlin'. I just woke up. You have to…" But her hand slid between them while her mouth moved down to suck along his throat. Hissing after a moment of her actions, he then said, "If you still want to be on top, you need to quit that."

Her chuckle of delight was music to his ears. As was her moan when she sank down onto him a moment later.

God, he loved this woman.

* * *

When Dusty finally opened the door to step out into the hall, she sighs as the smell of maple pancakes floats through the air. Dewey blinks in surprise for a moment. He'd known by now that Sam was good at a great many things, but he didn't think cooking was one of the man's talents.

His curiosity is answered though when Dusty says thankfully, "Sunny's cooking breakfast."

Chuckling, Dewey wraps an arm around her waist while asking, "The baby cooks?"

"She's a toddler now. And yes, she cooks. She is the best cook you or I will ever see."

"I see. So I probably shouldn't comment on how odd it is that a toddler is the one cooking breakfast for… how many people is she cooking breakfast for?"

Dusty sticks out her tongue at him, laughing when he chases it back into her mouth. Pressing a gentle hand against his chest, she pulls back enough to say, "She loves to cook. And she understands that she's not allowed to touch anything sharp without at least one older person in the room. So long as she abides by those rules, she can cook for as many people as she wants."

Dewey makes a swift dive to kiss her throat one more time. Then he sighs and leans back from her. Taking her hand in his, weaving their fingers together, he says, "As you wish, darlin'. Now, shall we?"

"Yes. I'm starving."

When they get to the kitchen, Sunny is cooking up a storm. Which, given the small army of mouths she's determined to feed, means she's working her way through everything Dusty currently had in her kitchen.

Dusty is going to have to put the toddler in charge of making the grocery shopping lists from now on. As she and Dewey walk up to the table on the other side of the kitchen, they find two seats left open for them at the head. Everyone else, the five other children, Sam and Kit, are already there, waiting for Sunny to be finished. And as Dusty takes one of the empty seats left, Klaus goes ahead and says, "I was standing next to Sunny for a while… but she kicked me out after I got in her way too many times. She promised to call one of us in if she finds herself needing to use a knife. But honestly…"

They hear the sound of teeth chomping swiftly against what Dusty believes is a potato. Grinning, she nods to Klaus, "But she's clearly working her way around that rule. It's fine."

Dusty then glances over at Sam and Kit. Sam, for his part, instantly turns a shade of red, as though Dusty had to already know what exactly he and the female Snicket had done last night. Kit simply slips her arm into his, smiling brightly at Dusty before asking, "How are you this morning?"

Dusty shrugs, but leans into Dewey's arm when he wraps it around her shoulders. "I'm good."

Kit raises an eyebrow, "Well rested?"

"Not exactly what I'd call it, but sure, let's go with that."

They both laugh, and then Sam breathes out a sigh of relief before explaining, "I thought you'd be mad that I brought her here."

Dusty just shakes her head, "Kit is welcome. All of them are welcome now." And at Sam's widening eyes, Dusty rolls hers. "You did say we were going to work on not being ghosts anymore. And none of them think I'm dead anymore anyway. So they're welcome."

"Even Jacques?!"

Dusty does pause at that, but then laughs when Kit throws in, "We can keep his visits to a minimum. He'll understand. Either that, or we can just blind fold him whenever we want him to come, and never actually reveal this location to him. He does sometimes have a tendency to show up unannounced."

Dewey squeezes Dusty tighter to him before suggesting, "Perhaps we could just make sure he doesn't have access to reach the lower levels. And if no one comes up to get him… well, he can either assume we're not here right now… or he can figure out that we can't deal with his ego for the day."

Kit grins. She is well aware that her brother is a bit much sometimes. Turning back to Dusty, she asks, "So… now what?"

Dusty just raises an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"I mean… what's going to happen now? With VFD, I mean. Jackie's been calling people all last night and this morning. She's trying to get everyone on board with changing the way VFD operates. But it would be easier if people had an idea of what it was going to become."

Blinking in surprise, Dusty asks, "She's working on that now?"

"Of course." And when Dusty still seems shocked, Kit raises an eyebrow, "You expected her to wait? After all this time that you've had to be gone from us because VFD couldn't operate the way it needed to? She's not about to give you any time to think about vanishing again."

Dusty opens her mouth to argue, but Dewey squeezes her tighter. Turning to look at her, he says, "I know you wouldn't leave. We've seen to it that I made sure you know you can't do that to me again." He grins when she blushes a bit. Then he adds, "But Jackie is looking for reassurances of her own. Best way to make sure you don't feel like you have to leave, at least in her opinion, is to make these changes happen as soon as possible."

Violet smiles across the table at her aunt and says, "We should change the name. To something completely different from VFD. Something to prove that big changes are coming."

Klaus nods, "Maybe something that would always remind everyone of why it had to change. Something that would forever remind them of what happens when you stay stagnant for too long."

As all of the children and even Kit and Sam go back and forth for a while thinking about that, Dusty takes Dewey's hand from her shoulder and draws it down to her leg. Weaving her fingers into his, she leans over onto his shoulder and says, "I have missed this."

Dewey kisses the top of her head, "I've missed you. I never really had this before. Being surrounded by people, waking up and having breakfast with a huge family like this? It's a bit new for me." Dusty worries for a moment that this is more than he can handle. But then he kisses her again and says, "I could definitely get used to it though. I could also get used to waking up every morning with you in my arms."

Dusty grins, lifting her head so she can see him again. Smiling down at her, he presses a gentle kiss to her lips. Then he glances towards the others and says, "I do think you're going to have to help them settle on a new name though."

"Why me?"

"Because you're the one that's going to have to show everyone how to change. You're going to have a teach a whole lot of people what you know. Whether you wanted it or not darlin', you are basically going to be at the head of this new organization." Shrugging, he adds, "Only makes sense to me that the final decision on a name comes from you. So… what do you think? What would always remind them of what happens when they fall too far behind the times?"

Dusty ponders it for a moment, picking up on the children's suggestions here and there. But honestly, the thing that pops into her mind… the thing that would remind them all of the mistakes that led up to the last few months of suffering.

The thing that would always remind them of Beatrice, and of the fact that she was gone but not forgotten? Well, it came to her rather simply.

"Dragonfly."

All the others at the table stop talking to look at her. Dewey smiles gently, nodding in approval of her choice. Smiling back at him, Dusty then turns to the rest of the table and nods in affirmation. "We'll be called Dragonfly."

* * *

The title VFD was put away almost within that very same day. The organization of the Dragonfly was put in its' place less that twenty-four hours after.

And though it confused some people at first, no one argued with Dusty about who she put in charge in assigning the missions they would be undertaking in this new organization. The children, already being more experienced in the ways Dusty wanted them to be than the adults, were the ones in charge of determining where they needed to go, when jobs needed to be done, and what dark corners of the world needed to be infiltrated so they could light it up again. With Sam's help, and their collective brain power altogether, the job of determining where and when to go was easy.

Choosing who would go was Dusty's role, along with Kit and Jackie. Together they knew everyone within the organization well enough to know who to send where, and who would have the least amount of trouble accomplishing their main goal on any given assignment. Lemony was still the documenter, keeping track of all their progress, and any of the few failures they had. And with his keen eye of observation, he was always able to point out when someone needed help understanding just how they were operating from now on. Which was as an organization that understood that, sometimes you really did need to fight fire with fire.

Dewey, not surprisingly, became the librarian. Just not a ghost librarian anymore. His entire library was moved into Dusty's home, and whenever someone needed to learn a new skill, locate an old record, or simply wanted new reading material, he was the one who knew where to find it.

What had once been a huge home with only two people ever inside, quickly became a headquarters that was constantly swarming with people. Ernest and Frank assigned everyone rooms when they came in, switching them out and filling them again with new people as everyone came and went.

Dusty stood there at the bottom of the stairs one day, watching as people ran back and forth from different rooms, chattering away about this, that, and the other. It was hard to believe at times, that her once quiet and empty home had somehow turned into this. She'd created it so that many could come and stay. But she'd never imagined how crowded it would become one day. She'd never imagined that her life living in the shadows would become one she shared with all of these other people.

But as one of Dewey's arms wraps around her waist, his free hand reaching up to trace across her sensitive neck and shoulder… Dusty can't help but smile. It was unexpected. It was something she didn't think she'd ever get completely used to again.

And she wouldn't trade it for anything.

* * *

The End! I do hope you enjoyed reading about Dusty in this story. Until next time! :)


End file.
